


Flash of Grey

by alicat54c



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Barry would really do anything for his family, Character Death, F/M, Flash Rogues, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Joe doesn't raise Barry, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, No seriously there is soul conflicting angst, Rethinking this slow thaw might actually be more punny, Slow Burn, Universe Alteration, central city maffia, coldflash - Freeform, goldvibe, killerwave, rogues family, thallen, well more like slow freeze....(I regret nothing with this pun)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 31,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5363363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicat54c/pseuds/alicat54c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe West might have been a good man at heart, but, from the perspective of a social worker, a newly divorced-from-a-vanished-drug-addict man with a history of child neglect was not the best candidate for a foster parent. </p><p>...or</p><p>The one where Lisa Snart makes a friend in foster care, and Barry learns how to pick locks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Barry

...

Joe West might have been a good man at heart, but, from the perspective of a social worker, a newly divorced-from-a-vanished-drug-addict man with a history of child neglect was not the best candidate for a foster parent. Add in that Mr. West was the officer who arrested said foster child’s father, only tilts the case further away from his favor.

He tried to get custody, however a major child abuse case a few years back orchestrated by a CCPD officer made the city wary about allowing cops leniency with the rules of social service. In another time and place, he could have pleaded his cause with the case worker and won; however here, his attempts at asking the woman out for coffee made her hackles raise faster than you could say flash. Her friend had been in charge of the Snart case, and had a long walk off a short pier in shame when she found out what those kids had been put through. She would not repeat that mistake.

Thus, a young Barry Allen found himself in foster care. 

In later years, Barry would say that the group home was not a bad place. He had done the math, and the couple who ran the place weren’t corrupt or embezzling, which was a rarity at the time. However, two people, with one working a full time job, couldn’t easily watch all the goings on of ten teenagers.

Inevitably, Barry, the strange boy with strange ideas and a frighteningly acute interest in chemistry, was bullied. He never told anyone in authority, preferring to charge in headfirst to solving his problems, however bruises were telling.

Around the third time a leg casually kicked out to topple the poor boy down the stairs and scatter his books, something changed.

“What do you think you are doing?” one of the older girls in the house snarled, gracefully stepping around the crumpled puddle of Barry, who had nearly fallen on top of her.

“Nothing!” the ring leader drawled, even as his eyes darted around for escape. “Allen just tripped, he real clumsy like that.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Well, next time, make sure he doesn’t ‘trip’ anywhere near me. Got it?”

The boys nodded vigorously, shot one last scathing look at Barry, who had managed to clamber to his knees to nurse his bruised elbows, and darted outside the front door.

“Idiots,” the girl huffed. She looked down. “Can you move, I do actually need to get upstairs.”

“S-sorry,” Barry said, and cleared his throat. He hadn’t spoken much since arriving here with his belongings in a trash bag. Whatever little money came from selling his old home was unreachable until he turned eighteen. 

The girl tapped her foot impatiently as he tried to collect his scattered notebooks. Barry had managed to maintain his position as an honors student in his new school, and was suffering through both the workload and teasing that came with it.

Once the stairway was clear, the girl tossed her hair, sent him a glimmering smile, and waltzed away.  
...

Barry was not an unobservant kid. Most of the time, anyway. But even he tended to notice that Butch and his gang of tormentors tended to flee when the girl, Lisa, was home. 

The young scientist took note, and made a point to curl up in the corner with a book in whatever common room she happened to be. Not that she was there often, something about her older brother being around, but unable to get custody, yet still keeping an eye on his sister.

Lisa, as Barry would soon discover, was also not unobservant. So when she finally spoke to him, Barry was rather taken aback.

“You can sit closer you know. I don’t bite.”

The young boy blinked, and shuffled closer to her end of the couch.

Thus a strange tolerance was born.  
...

“I fell while ice skating,” she said non-chalantly, holding the swollen wrist close to her chest.

Barry wanted to question how hard the ice had hit back, but his words were lost in shivers. It was winter, and Butch thought it was hilarious to steal Barry’s keys. He had been huddled around his backpack on the stoop for the better part of an hour waiting for the couple who ran the house to return.

Lisa took in the scene within half a second, and rolled her eyes. She didn’t have a key either, though that was more because she only came to the home a few days out of the week than negligence. She plucked a pin from her hair. “Here, take this and that paperclip from your homework. I’ll talk you through getting the door open.”

Barry fumbled to put his backpack down, and snatched the large paperclip holding his book report together. 

As the older girl talked him through picking the back door lock, he wondered whether he should be wary of someone who knew this specific skill. Then he reasoned that knowing how to pick a lock did not make someone a bad person, just handy.

The door soon swung open, and the duo scuttled inside. Barry wrapped Lisa’s wrist for her, and she patted him on the head.  
...

“There’s this autobiography on Harrison Wells that just came out, and I really wanted to read it.”

Barry huffed, arms thrown around his knees, which were drawn up close to her chest. Beside him, Lisa flicked through the channels on the staticy TV. 

Her eyes ticked sideways. “Don’t you usually get those books of yours from the library?”

“Butch stole my library card.”

Lisa considered him, one brow raised. “You could just stuff it in you bag and leave.”

Barry’s eyes widened. “I can’t steal from a library!”

“It’s not stealing if you’re planning on giving it back later.”

The kid’s lips pressed together. “But it’s still wrong.”

“So’s Butch stealing your library card.”

“But two wrongs don’t make it right.”

Lisa laughed. “You’re adorable you know that?”

Later, Barry found the book under his pillow, the stamp of the CC public library on the spine. His hand hovered over the cover, mind whirling with how he was benefitting from a felany, and his moral compass didn’t appear to have any qualms.

When Lisa asked him if he liked his present, he flushed, and said he would be returning it the next day. You know, after he had read the first chapter.  
...


	2. Len

...

One of Len’s earliest memories is of the inside of a closet. The scratchy pull of stale cotton against his skin, contrasting the cloying tickle of the carpet through his socks and soft pants. His fingers twitched in a clockwork tick he learned to hide as he got older, counting -the seconds- the bottles- the intervals between shouts and slams.

His mother screamed.

That was the last time he heard her voice.  
...  
Lisa’s earliest memory was of cuddling into her grandfather’s musty couch with her brother. The faded blue blanket was pulled up past her chin, but couldn’t entirely cover the estatic grin spread across her face at the promise of Christmas, that mythical event which she had yet to experience properly, despite her accumulated years.

Her grandfather had smiled in what she might later recall as a sorrowful fondness, smoothed back her hair, and told her about the forgotten kingdom of Arandell, where winters were kind and magic hung on the window frames like frost.

“Our family is descended from the royal ice cutters, you know,” the old man had confided to his grandchildren.

“That’s a silly name!” Lisa had chuckled.

“It sounds more regal in Norwegian, I’m sure.”

She had gotten her first pair of ice skates that Christmas. Everyone said she was queen of the ice, whenever she glided around the rink. Lisa, of course, took it as her due, some forgotten part of her ancestry reveling in the praise.  
...

When Len left home, he waited just long enough for his presence to fade from his father’s mind, before he discreetly called in a noise violation the night of a big heist.

His father’s crimes were splashed across the morning paper, ‘Dirty Cop Caught Planning Heist.’ Well, the ones he was accused of anyway. Snart Senior was sent to a prison near Starling, due to Iron Heights being at capacity.

The thief made a point to speak with a thoroughly researched social worker, once his father was put in jail. His sister wasn’t eighteen, and Len couldn’t take her in himself yet, being neck deep in navigating his way through the mobs of Central. 

The woman, old and grizzled in a way reminiscent of a bear who’s taking none of your shit, raised an eyebrow. What she had guessed to be a mugger hashed out his concerns about his father trying to wrangle visitation rights to influence his sister, all while holding her at gunpoint in the alley by her office. 

She promised she would take over the case from the last social worker who had ben handling Len and Lisa’s home life. Said former social worker was taking time off for personal reasons.

Len thanked her politely, and informed her that he would be calling her office to check up on everything soon.

Lisa never exactly found out about what her brother did, but she had her suspicions. Never the less, she was much happier than she could remember being in a long while. The foster home was in a quaint utterly suburban part of the city, run by a middle aged couple with a desperate want of children. She shared the house with three other boys, but got her own room as the only girl, so it didn’t bother her much. 

She only wished that her brother visited more, but, as Len explained, at least one of them should finish high school before getting on the wrong side of the law.  
...

Later, Lisa’s new social worker would be given another troubled child to place.

In another world, she might have given into the pleas of the officer trying to get custody of the boy. However, here, she recalled cold blue eyes silently crying out for protect his sister, and the litany of reports of broken bones and bruises she uncovered while investigating the Snart patriarch.

Her faith in the system had been jarred enough that granting custody of a traumatized child to a police officer with a history of child endangerment and an addict wife who vanished into the ether gave her pause.

When she learned that Joe West was also the officer who arrested the boy’s father, she denied him custody. Who knows how traumatic it might have been for a boy to live with the man who arrested his father for killing his mother. Barry Allen did not need a constant reminder of that day, the social worker decided, before sending him to the nicest foster home she could.  
...

“Lisa, you should be in school,” Len said, voice slightly muffled as he spoke through his pillow into the receiver. 

“Well hello to you too,” his sister snarked back. “And might I add that you sound like you’ve been run over by a truck. You weren’t, were you?”

The young man sighed, curling further under his covers. “Not this week. I was just working late. How’s class? You still flunking chemistry?”

“No.” Lisa drew out the word in an implicating manner, causing her brother to muffle a smile. 

“Really.”

She huffed. “You don’t believe me Lenny? I’m hurt!” Her voice turned more natural. “No, but I really am doing better. This adorable little nerd moved into the house. He’s my new study buddy!”

The thief hummed. “Just don’t traumatize the kid too much.”

“You know I don’t break the toys I like.”

Len hummed tiredly.

His sister chuckled. “You still coming to visit me next week?”

“Of course.”

“Good! Could you pick me up at the house?”

“Lisa, you know I can’t do that.”

“I know, you don’t want work following you, bla bla bla. But, please? Just this once?”

A quiet smile pulled the corners of the thief’s face. “Hm, no. Take the bus.”

“Come on, public transport in this city sucks! Please? I want to show you that my friend does exist, despite all you say to the contrary.”

“Good night Lisa.”  
...

The first time Len went to Iron Heights, his cell mate was a life timer in for murder. Initially that put the young man on edge, knowing first hand how desperation can turn a body to desperate acts. However, his cellmate kept to himself for the most part.

Then Len got stabbed in the hall by one of Santini’s goons. He felt his lung puncture, and blood start to leak into his mouth as his body struggled for air. Vision swimming, he vaguely felt someone pull the goon off of him. There was a dull thud of fist hitting flesh, then compressing pressure against his side, before he passed out.

When the thief was let out of intensive care, the first thing he did was make sure his attacker wouldn’t be going in for another hit. The second thing he did was confront his cellmate.

“I read your file. You were a doctor.”

“Yes,” the older man said, calmly reading a paperback on his bunk. 

“A guy with your skills could easily be living comfortably in here.” The question hung heavily in his tone.

The old man sighed, and shut his book. “I have no desire to join a gang.”

“Well, Doc, with the stunt you did, pulling that Santini guy off me, you really might want to consider getting yourself some protection.”

Doc smiled, wearily. “I think I’ll be ok. Thank you though.”

Later, when Len saw a goon tailing the Doc with ill intent in the yard, he discreetly signaled Mick to follow, and made his way there first.

“Hey there Doc.” Len smirked, sitting beside the older man on the bench. “Read anything interesting lately?”

Mick remained standing, arms crossed, glaring at anything which dared to come close. The goon looked properly terrified, and casually changed his course to the opposite end of the yard. 

Doc blinked, roused from his reverie of words. “Hello. Yes, my son sent me a book he liked for Christmas. He’s going to try and visit next week, so I want to finish it and let him know what I thought.”

A complicated twisting emotion brought Len’s brows closer together. “You close?”

“We try to be, given the circumstances. Barry’s a good kid.”

Blue eyes turned calculating. “Would you want to get out and see him more often?”

The doctor’s attention turned fully on his cellmate. “Yes, and I have hope that one day they’ll realize I’m innocent, and I’ll be able to.”

“It’s been years, Doc. If the system cared, you would be out by now.”

Surgeon’s hands ran down the book’s spine. “That’s why they call it hope, Leonard.”

“Len.” The thief gestured over his shoulder. “And that’s Mick.”

“A pleasure to meet you both. I’m Henry.”  
...

Mick and Henry got along like a house on fire, which from the arsonist’s perspective was fabulous. 

The doctor regarded his sudden companions with politely careful confusion, but after a few weeks of sharing lunch tables and yard time, allowed himself more than casual responses.

As Len listened to the Doc regale them with his son’s latest antics at the science fair, he wondered if this was how every parent was meant to feel about their children. His thoughts took a sharp downward spiral from that point, and he cut them off before his distaste became noticeable.

Much later, when Len’s carefully sculpted plans came into fruition, he held out his hand, and gave his tentative ally an offer.

“You coming Doc?” Len said, foot halfway out of the cell door. 

Henry shook his head. “You better knock me out so they don’t think we were conspiring together. I don’t want to have to turn you in, kid.”

The thief did not frown, though a ponderously confused expression curled the edges of his features for a flash, before vanishing under cool apathy. “If you’re sure,” he said, before slamming his fist against the back of the doctor’s skull.

As he and Mick hustled into the back of the getaway car, Len briefly hoped Henry got to be with his son again, but he knew the world wasn’t that kind.  
...  
...  
...


	3. Barry and Lisa

...  
Sept 1 2003  
To: icequeen230@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

You realize I’m never letting you set up an email account for me again, right?

...  
Sept 5 2003  
To: impossibear@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

My laptop, my whims. And before you ask, it was a present from my big brother so we could keep in touch while I’m away.

...  
Sept 7 2003  
To: icequeen230@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

Yes, now that you can legally take charge of your own life, you go running to join the Russian circus.  
...  
Sept 25 2003  
To: impossibear@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

It’s an ice show, not the circus. And, hey, this is the closest I can get to training in hard core Russian ballet. I need an edge if I want to make it to the Olympics!

Speaking of beauty before age, how’s it feel to finally be a teenager? Did you get the present I sent? If Butch stole your mail again, I can make a call and have him taken care of.

...  
Sept 29 2003  
To: icequeen230@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

:) Thanks for the card! But, you know you don’t have to send me cash, I’m ok. Detective West stops by and gives me an allowance when he takes me and Iris out for lunch on the weekends. You should be saving up to come visit me!

...  
Oct 15 2003  
To: impossibear@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

That’s your birthday present, dummy. You should be proud, that was straight from my first paycheck and everything.

And that cop’s still hanging around? That’s a little creepy, I mean, isn’t he the guy who arrested your dad?

Speaking of, you still thinking about going into forensics to help him?

...  
June 25 2004  
To: icequeen230@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

Saw the flyers for your new show! Do you seriously have to wear that much gold, or is it just for taking poster pictures?

Sorry I can’t make it to this one (even if it is only two states away :P), but I’m glad your brother made it to your last one in California! Did he seriously fill the dressing room with roses? That’s hilarious! (Come on, you can’t be mad that he’s proud of you. If I had a little sister I would embarrass the heck out of her. That is not an invitation for you to do that to me, btw.)  
...

Nov 7 2006  
To: impossibear@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

That jerk at school still giving you trouble? I’m pretty sure my brother’s in Central next week. Just say the word, and I’ll make a call to get that cleaned up for you (no matter how many times you tell me not to, I will always still worry).

So, college? You sure have the brains for it, so go! Though, I think you should really consider going somewhere other than CCU. I know you want to be close to se your dad, but you shouldn’t let that limit you. Take it from someone who’s traveled the world, it’s worth seeing. ;)

But yeah, I got a deal with this rink in New York to be on their team for qualifiers next year. I’ll get the gold this year for sure! (fingers crossed!)

...  
May 20 2008  
To: icequeen230@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

Sorry about the Olympics. Are you going to be ok? I know you said you managed to convince your brother to help you find a job, but I’m still worried...

...  
Dec 13 2009  
To: impossibear@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

Merry Christmas! I sent a card to your dorm, and it contains your combined Christmas and graduation gift (don’t ask where it came from).

Yeah, the job in Starling was a bust, but that place is crazy (not Gotham crazy, but that’s Gotham). I’m thinking about going west again, so I’ll send you a pic of the Pacific when I see it. :)

But really, CCPD? Barry, you could be literally anywhere but Central. You’re wasted in that place.  
...  
...


	4. Barry and the Flash

Detective West had always been something of a fixture in Barry’s life, inviting the poor kid over on holidays, and always sending a birthday card tucked into the cover of a nice book.

Of course the books became more and more of a heartfelt gesture than anything aligning with Barry’s interests as his intellect skewed into uncharted scientific territories, but it was the thought that counted.

Personally, Barry thought the guy felt guilty for arresting his dad. Not that he didn’t like Detective West. On he contrary, he saw the guy like a quirky uncle: not someone he would introduce a significant other to, but definitely on the Thanksgiving dinner roster.

In any case, Barry would always be grateful for the recommendation when he applied to be one of the CCPD’s forensic scientists. 

His life, with its tiny apartment across town and perpetually late arrivals to work, seemed to be falling into place. He got promoted to assistant forensic scientist, meaning he was put on the field for cases instead of being cooped up in the lab for processing work. Joe finally stopped hinting at his daughter being single every time he invited Barry over to Sunday dinner. He even got to see his father more often, now that he had full control over his own work schedule.

Then the lightening struck.

And he was left in the dark.  
...

Waking up with superpowers was the strangest experience of Barry’s life, second only to discovering he also now had abs.

He had always wanted to be a hero as a kid; always wanted someone to keep the bullies off his back and catch the thing that killed his mother. Lisa had always laughed at him, until he pointed out that going for the Olympics was just as far fetched of an aspiration. 

Transitioning from mild mannered forensic scientist to speed demon wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Joe noticed something off in his behavior at first, but the older police officer was easily placated by Barry’s excuses, not really knowing the kid well enough to detect his deflections. Because while Barry could not lie with a straight face to save his life, he could twist the truth and deflect like nobody’s business.

Then other metas started showing up.

Now, Barry still had faith in the justice system. That was one of the main reasons why he never submitted any of his correspondences with Lisa for evidence, nor did he accept any of her offers of work, before he started with the CCPD. 

So imprisoning people without a trial weighed like a spike in his chest.

But...Nimbus was literally a poisonous ball of gas. The police didn’t even know about metas, despite Iris starting up a blog on them. They weren’t equipped to handle them.

So Barry buried that little ball of malcontent. For now.  
...

One double sided coin to super speed was the enhanced metabolism. On the one hand, poison usually sped through his system too fast to do much harm. On the other, he was always hungry.

In a different world, Barry might have not have had to worry about paying for his apartment, say if he was living with a man who had raised him since childhood. However, in this world, the speedster couldn’t supplement his fridge with the spare income. He couldn’t ask Cisco for more of his high calorie bars, as those tasted terrible, and Star Labs was suffering a bit in the funding department, since all of their military contracts got cancelled. 

So, a few times a week, Barry would speed through a big chain supermarket after hours to fill his stomach. He never took more than he needed, and he never hit the same place more than once a month.

His small heists reminded him of the times Lisa would sneak candy bars into the group home to share with him. Smiling to himself, Barry picked up a box of mars bars to mail to her for her up coming birthday, taking special care to show the un-rung price tag still stuck to the side.

She probably would find it hilarious.  
...

Never having stopped a jewelry heist before, Barry wondered whether he should try to hunt down the thieves or wait till they struck again. 

He raced through the criminal files, trying to find a face which matched the one from the thief at the truck. He did not technically have the authority to be in these records, being only an assistant in the forensics department and not a detective or working officer, but what was super speed for if not to be utilized for crime solving?

Eventually he picked up a black binder, and there he was. “Leonard? That’s just as bad as Bartholomew.” A sound in the corridor prompted the speedster to dash back to his lab, files meticulously returned to their proper shelves.

Later, while doing a background check of his thief on the CCPD open access databases, he swore. Logging onto a nearly unused email account, he scrolled through the years of history.

When he found mention of, ‘Lenny being such an over protective big brother again’, his curses would have caused a sailor to double take.

“Oh god, what am I gonna tell Lisa if I get her brother arrested?” he moaned, pressing his face to his palm.  
...

Luckily for Barry’s emotional status, Leonard Snart turned out to be a complete ass, so he didn’t feel guilty at all for trying to punch the guy in the face.  
...  
...


	5. Lisa, Cisco, and the Flash

In the bowls of Star Labs, the Flash contemplated the Weather Wizard pacing his glass prison like a tiger.

“Why do you want to kill Detective West so bad?”

Mark scowled. “What’s it to you?”

“Just curious.”

“And if I satisfy your curiosity, you’ll let me go, is that it?”

“No, you tried to kill a lot of people just to get to one man. But what else have you got to do in there?”

The elemental huffed. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Answer my question, and I’ll get you something to entertain yourself with.”

Mark crossed his arms. “He killed my brother. I’m getting revenge.”

“And you don’t care who you go through to get it? How many people’s brothers you might have killed?”

“You don’t get it!” Mark snarled. “He was the only family I had, and then he was gone, just because some dumb cop-”

“Was doing his job.”

“That doesn’t matter! You just don’t get it! He was my family!”

The Flash crossed his arms. “You’re wrong, I do get it. Hell, I get it more than you know. My father was framed for the murder of my mother when I was eleven. Everything I had was gone in,” he smirked deprecatingly, “in a flash. For a long time, I didn’t have anyone to hate but the guy who arrested my father, because everyone kept saying the guy who really killed my mother didn’t exist.”

He looked through the glass at Mark, who’s pacing had stilled. “If I let myself hang onto that anger longer than I did, it wouldn’t have done anything but hurt me and everyone around me. I get where you’re coming from, because if I had had these powers back then, nothing could have stopped me from-” 

Barry turned away from the glass. “The important thing is I didn’t.”

He took a steadying breath, before fixing his eyes on the Weather Wizard. “Now, I don’t care that you wanted revenge. I don’t even really care that it was Detective West you went after- he’s a cop and can take care of himself. What I care about is your complete disregard of the bystanders in your way. Central is MY city. And the day you get out of here, I want you to remember that in MY city you play by MY rules, which means no innocents gets hurt.”

He slammed an electric palm onto the glass. “Because once one of us starts playing for keeps, that means both of us can. Get it?”

Mark nodded, face drained of blood.

“Good,” the Flash snarled. His demeanor eased fractionally back to polite. “Thanks for answering my question. I’ll be sure to tell Cisco to get you a tennis ball or something to play with.”  
...

After his little chat with the Weather Wizard, Barry found himself in desperate need of a drink, despite the intoxicant’s lack of effect on his person. It was the principle of the thing.

The night was going well, with he and Cisco laughing over a joke, when a blonde minks sidled up to his side.

Barry choked on his drink. “Lisa?”

The blonde tilted her head coyly. “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong-” Her eyes met his. “Barry?”

Cisco looked between the two, pulling his drink closer to his chest. “You two know each other?”

The forensic scientist laughed. “Yeah, sorry. Cisco, this is Lisa. We grew up together.” He turned to the older woman. “What are you doing back in town? I thought you were still with that figure skating troupe, the Italian one?”

He canted his words in a way to indicate he didn’t mean figure skating at all. 

She shrugged, slinking into a seat between the two men. “The job didn’t pan out, so I broke it off with them to travel around a bit.” She smiled disarmingly at the bar tender as he handed her a martini. “But enough about me, what about you? Still running after the impossible?”

Barry laughed. “You could say that.”

“You could say some of it’s been chasing back,” Cisco cut in, sticking out a hand. “Hi I’m Cisco!”

Lisa’s smile turned teasing, though the corners of her eyes crinkled in thought. “I’m Lisa,” she said, taking his gracefully.

“Why are you back in Central?” Barry asked sipping on a whiskey, more for politeness sake, since he couldn’t get drunk anymore.

“Visiting family.”

The speedster snorted. “Yeah, I met your brother a while back. He’s a jerk.”

A witty reply was half way past her golden lips, when Lisa paused. Her eyes glided from her childhood friend to his dark haired companion and back again, ticking with the constant whirling analysis she inherited from her brother. Half a breath stuttered in her lungs like a gasp, and she took a recovering sip of her drink. 

The two boys beside her continued to laugh and jab at each other, but Lisa’s mind was several blocks away in a room where a pyro and an aspiring don plotted.

She downed the rest of her drink. “Let’s get out of here,” she stated. 

“What?” Cisco’s cheeks turned pink. 

Barry, more used to her spontaneous whims, shrugged, and gulped his whiskey. “Sure, where to?”

“It’s a surprise, now come on!”

She led the laughing duo out into the street and hailed a cab. Her smile never left her face, up until she unlocked the door. 

Leaning close to Barry’s ear, she hissed, “I’m sorry, I won’t let you get hurt.”

The speedster frowned in confusion, before the door shut, and a drawling voice filled the quiet room.

“Now, what are your intentions towards my sister?”

Lisa glided past the duo into the room. “Lenny, this is my friend Barry, the one I’ve always old you about? And this is his friend Cisco.” Lisa’s light tone broke no funny business. “Play nice.”

The scientist’s eye’s widened. “Oh my god, you’re Captain Cold!”

Barry sighed resignedly and flopped on the ornamental couch. “And I thought this day couldn’t get any better after the tidal wave.”

Len’s eyes narrowed as his gaze flicked between the two men and his sister, who shot him an imperious golden glare. 

“Well, this makes things interesting, doesn’t it?” Cold turned to the speedster. “Barry, nice to meet you. Wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

Barry lifted his head enough to glare, before flopping back onto the couch.

Lisa rolled her eyes and flopped down beside him, just out of reach. “Come on Barry, haven’t you always been asking to meet my family?”

Cisco stood in the middle of the room, unsure where to put his hands. “What’s going on? Why do you know Cold’s sister?”

Barry folded over into a sitting position, elbows on his knees. Taking a fortifying breath, he stared straight into his friend’s eyes, an apology proffered in their depths. “We grew up together in the same foster home.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it, what with,” Cisco’s hands flailed at the thief in the room. “Everything?”

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Well it seems kind of relevant now, Barry!”

“Not to break up your little domestic dispute,” Len cut in, “But we have some business to discuss.” Mick loomed in the shadows like a fiery specter. Len’s smirk, if anything, became more smug. “So here’s the deal, you make us new guns, and you both get to walk out of here alive.”

Barry shared a look with Cisco. The dark haired scientist looked terrified, but minutely shook his head. The speedster untended his muscles. If Cisco thought The Flash’s secret identity was worth protecting, then Barry would trust him to get them out of this situation.  
...


	6. Lisa and the Flash

...

Lisa takes Barry into an adjoining room while her brother hovers over Cisco’s shoulder, memorizing how he puts together the cold gun from scrap.

Once they’re alone, the speedster turns on his life long friend.

“What the hell Lisa!” Barry snarled. 

“It’s just business. I’m not going to let him hurt either of you.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not what it looks like!”

“Don’t try to make me the bad guy here, Barry!”

The forensic scientist threw up his hands. “But you ARE the bad guy here Lisa!”

“Ok, maybe.” She conceded. “But we’re not the worst. Lenny wants to drive the mobsters out of Central. That’s why he wanted the guns.”

“Yeah, so he can take it over himself!”

“And is that such a bad thing?” Her tone broke through his righteous anger. “I know you know the statistics of gang related violence in Central. Lenny doesn’t condone drugs, and he doesn’t go out of his way to kill cops or bystanders-”

“He clearly didn’t tell you about the first time he fought the Flash with the cold gun, did he?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Well, Lenny always shows off when he’s got a crush. Pressing boundaries is all about defining the rules of the game, or something. God, you should have seen how bad he was in London: he sent the consulting detective a human skull he dug up. It got weird.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that people died, Lisa. Innocent people!”

“Innocent people are dying out there now, Barry. Look, you’ve never been to Gotham. With all the crazy that’s been going on down there, a lot of the dons have been starting to move their operations here. Lenny is just beating back the competition and taking the race over before it becomes a bad situation.”

“Well, the Flash won’t let him just take over.”

“Barry, I know you’re the Flash, ok? Now stop pretending that that is going to actually be a problem here.”

The speedster stumbled back. “What? No I’m not!”

She fixed him with a flat look. “Seriously? It didn’t take more than putting together two and two together when I saw you and Cisco at the bar; you really have to work on the whole secret identity thing. Lenny briefed me on why he wanted Cisco, and it wasn’t just for the guns. He wanted the Flash, because he likes playing cops and robbers with you. I’m telling you that the best ending scenario for everyone in this city is if you both set down your rules and play nice together.”

The speedster breathed heavily, and on any other person it would have been hyperventilating, but, well, speedster.

“All right, so let’s pretend I’m going along with this. How do we get Cisco and me out of here unharmed without your brother finding out my secret identity?”

Lisa pressed her lips together. “Let me think.”  
...

Later, with Cisco having forcibly created three super powered ray guns of various themes for a group of rogues, Len turned the cold gun on his captives.

“And just one more question-” he said to Cisco, but Lisa cut him off.

“All right, you boys can go now. Don’t bother phoning the police, we’ll be gone before they get here.”

Barry and Cisco exchanged a wary look.

The scientist fiddled with his hands. “Just like that you’re letting us go?”

Lisa looked ponderous. “I suppose if you keep hanging around we could always use another gold gun...”

“Right! Yeah, we’re leaving!” Cisco grabbed his friend and booked it towards the door.

The older woman waved cheekily at their retreating backs. “Let’s get together again soon!”

The door slammed shut, and Len rounded on his sister. “What was that?”

Lisa tossed her hair. “What was what?”

“You stopped me from asking who the Flash was.” He definitely was not pouting.

“I’m sorry, have I ruined your little game?”

“You ruined my leverage.”

“Well, it was mine first, and you know how I don’t like to share my toys.”

Captain Cold blinked. “You know who the Flash is,” he stated flatly.

“Of course.” A pleased smile curled the corners of her mouth when faced with her sibling’s ire.

“You’re going to tell me.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Lenny, I’m not telling you who the Flash is. We have an understanding, and I’m not letting your big mouth ruin it.”

“Lisa,” his tone was reprimanding, the same voice he used when questioning whether she was cutting class or not.

“Lenny,” she mimicked, putting her hands on her hips. They stared each other down. Lisa jutted out her lower lip. “Jerk.”

He huffed. “Train wreck.”

“I’m still not telling you who he is.”

Len picked up his gun, examining the shiny new casing. “I suppose I can just find a new angle to play on.”

Lisa stifled a laugh, but only just barely.  
...

Back at Star Labs, Barry rubbed soothing circles onto his friend’s back, as Cisco breathed into a paper bag.

“Feeling better?” The speedster asked, when the hyperventilating slowed. 

“No.” The scientist uncurled himself from the safety position. Brown eyes met brown. “Barry, you’re my friend, and I want to give you the benefit of the doubt here, but you’re friends with criminals.”

Barry crossed his arms and took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said.

Cisco bit his lip, fingers clenched white around the crumpled paper bag.

The forensic specialist ran a hand over the back of his head. “Look, do you remember when Cold first stole the cold gun, and you said you only made it to stop me, because you didn’t know if I was a good person? Remember how I didn’t get mad?”

The scientist nodded slowly.

Barry took another steadying breath. “It was because I’m not a good person, but I try to be. I want to be the guy who saves the woman from the purse snatcher, but I’ve also been the sick guy who’s friend held up a convenience store to pay for antibiotics.”

He stared earnestly into his friend’s eyes. “You’re my friend Cisco, and I would never let you get hurt, but you have every right to hate me right now. You were terrified in there with Cold and Heatwave, all the while trying to protect the identity of the Flash. And here I am telling you the Flash is a petty thief instead of a hero.” He stood up. “If you don’t want to be friends anymore, I get it. We can keep things professional, or I’ll make sure Lisa knows to leave you alone if you don’t want to be on Team Flash anymore.”

The speedster stood up to leave, but Cisco’s voice paused his step.

“You’re wrong.” The scientist glared at him. “The Flash is a hero, and he’s my friend.” He fumbled to his feet. “Barry, I may not get this whole weird soap opera that is your life, but you’re not a bad person. A bad person wouldn’t be out there risking their life every day to help people. Yeah, I’m upset and angry that you didn’t tell me about Snart, but you were right; it wasn’t any of my business.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess I just thought we shared everything, because we were friends.”

“Cisco, you’re my best friend.” Barry assured, placing a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. 

“Me too bro.”

They took a moment to recompose themselves.

“So, what’s this I hear about you misusing your powers? You haven’t been stealing stuff while in my suit, have you?”

Barry laughed wetly. “Well, there was this one time I had the munchies in the middle of a patrol, and ran through a Walmart...”

Later, the speedster would leave a box of Twizzlers on his friend’s desk. A complicated furrowing of brows and twisting of lips would cross Cisco’s face when he found them, before he unwrapped a cherry flavored one and took a bite.  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news everyone!
> 
> I just finished exams!
> 
> Yay!
> 
> Also, Barry keeps stealing candy for people. This has somehow become a thing in this story.


	7. Barry and Hartley

When Barry was fourteen, a new boy moved into his foster home. The kid’s name was Billy, and little Billy, though in possession of a rather acute sense of justice, was six, and still rather gullible.

Lisa had been in town, and invited Barry to share her all expenses paid hotel room for a girl’s night, before her troupe continued on their cross country tour, so Barry didn’t get to meet little Billy until after Butch and his gang had assured the kid that Barry was the worst kind of person.

Barry had to contend with three years of cold shoulders and screams whenever he was left alone with the kid, who seemed assured that Barry deserved the bullying and jabs the other boys shot at him. Barry wasn’t sad to see little Billy Batson go, though he always somewhat regretted being unable to throw his scorn.

If little Billy had just given him a chance, Barry was sure they could have been friends.  
...

Pulling up a chair, Barry set his elbows on his knees, folded his fingers under his chin, and stared at the Pipeline’s newest resident.

Hartley Rathaway quirked an eyebrow. “Like what you see?”

“I’m still determining who I’m seeing. Why did you attack that building? Your parents own it, right?”

“Oh, you know, revenge for disowning me, bla, bla,bla. I’m sure Cisco will give you glowing reviews of my character.”

“You two don’t really like each other, do you.”

The scientist clapped his hands slowly. “Congratulations, super speed, and quick on the uptake. Whatever did you do before your powers?”

“Can I ask why?”

“What can I say?” He crossed his hands over his chest. “I was just born with a magnetic personality.”

“Caitlin said that you and Ronnie were friends.”

Hartley blinked slowly. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“She said that he wanted you at the wedding-”

“Because we worked together,” he snarked.

“And that after your parents kicked you out, you stayed with him.”

The scientist pressed his lips together, hold on his elbows tightening. “I don’t see what you’re trying to accomplish here.”

Barry tilted his head. “You just don’t seem like the kind of guy who would blow up a building for no reason. Or, if you were, I think you would have gone about it in a much smarter way.”

“Congratulations, you’ve discovered my master evil plan. But, it’s not like I can monologue in here.” Without moving his body, Hartley’s eyes ticked towards the camera in the corner, as well as several other seemingly random locations in the room. Green gaze alighted once more on Barry. “Acoustics are all wrong for it, you know.”

A crease folded between the speedster’s brows, before he got up and purposefully began punching in the code to unlock the door.

“What are you doing?” the prisoner asked, voice a few steps higher, betraying his startled surprise.

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. What do you want to eat?”

“You’re serious,” Hartley said, as the door beeped and clicked open. “I could run away.”

“I’ll catch you.” Barry levered the door open wider. “Now food?”

“I’ll tell the newspaper who you are, and about all the metas you’ve got locked up in here. But I guess we can’t expect common human decency from Star Labs.”

The speedster winced, but blundered on. “Look, if you don’t pick something, I’ll pick something, and all I can think of is fast food, which I’m sure you’ve had enough of.”

Hartley scowled at him, but took a decisive step full of bravo out of the cell. “Damn right. Now, get me Greek food, peon!”

Giving a mock salute, the Flash scooped the shorter man off his feet, and deposited him in front of a small cafe after a momentary sprint through the city. 

“You sure know how to sweep a guy off his feet,” Hartley gasped, lungs fluttering from his brief exposure to faster than advisable travel.

“What can I say, I’m the romantic type.” Barry sassed back, holding the door open. 

“I hope you know you’re buying,” the scientist said, as he sashayed to a table in the back corner. “I left my wallet in my other super villain suite.”

“I’ve got it. What do you want?”

“Spanakopita, and my weight in baklava.”

Barry rolled his eyes, ordered, and returned from the counter ten minutes later with two trays piled high with lamb and spinach. 

“Hungry?” Hartley asked, brow raised, as he took his one serving and drink.

The speedster shrugged. “Fast metabolism. I need to snack a lot.”

“Snack. Right.” Primly, he cut through the flakey crust of his meal.

Barry fiddled with his food. “About what you said before. I don’t actually agree with how we’re handling the metas in the Pipeline.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

Lightening flashed in the speedster’s eyes. “Look, there’s no better option! General Eiling’s been studying metas. There was this one woman, she could blow stuff up by touching it. He got to her, and-” Barry’s fists clenched. “So, yeah, I don’t like how we’re handling the Pipeline, but I think that’s better than them being arrested and sent who knows where. People don’t know about metas, and until there are some laws in place to handle them, I can’t in good conscience let them vanish into the cracks of some messed up military experiment.”

Hartley sipped his drink. “That’s surprisingly more thought than I’ve though you capable of on the matter.”

“Well, what would you have me do?”

The scientist tilted his head ponderously. “You don’t have a lot of people to talk to, do you.”

“My friends don’t exactly understand my perspective.”

“Because they all work for Wells, and defer to his ‘brilliant’ planning skills.”

Barry shrugged. “Or are internationally wanted criminals, yeah.”

“You really need to get new friends,” Hartley said between slurping iced tea through his straw.

“I didn’t really have time to make friends. High school I stuck to the back of the social ladder, and college, well, had to keep those grades for a scholarship.”

“I used to have a scholarship fund, you know.” The scientist said, carefully cataloging the sensitivity his companion held for the previous topic. “I convinced my parents that the ‘Rathaway Fellowship’ sounded respectable, and helping disadvantaged kids through college would be a nice feather in their social cap.”

“I looked at applying for that one, but they only accepted engineering scholars.”

The scientist shrugged, smirk playing across his lips. “It is the only worthwhile field of study.”

Barry threw a fry at him. “It’s kind of crazy though. The requirements for that are more difficult than a dissertation.”

“Yes, which is why at the end, winners were awarded a framed diploma.” He stirred the ice in his cup. “I believe Ramone still keeps his in his desk.”

They ate their food in silence.

“So, should we head back?” Barry ventured, once he had practically licked his plates clean. He eyed the sticky sweet baklava on Hartley’s side of the food massacre, but the scientist stuffed the last piece into his mouth with a satisfied moan of contentment.

“We’re taking the scenic route this time,” Hartley said, pulling out his seat to stand up.

“Through the park it is,” Barry sighed, throwing the trash away.

The duo trudged out of the cafe and down the walk to the waterfront, where a tree lined path was generously called a park by the locals.

“Wonder where they’re going,” Barry said idly, as a flock of birds flew past.

“The shelter on 33rd throws out its bread on thursdays,” Hartley hummed, adjusting his straw to get the last of his drink. “The birds always fly over, because Cherry throws the extra into the parking lot for them. She works and an ornithologist in urban environments, and is trying to get support for a study on biodiversity in fragmented habitats.”

The speedster blinked as another grouping of pigeons fled the park. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I made her a program to sort her data. She was using excell, can you imagine?”

Barry tapped his hands against his thigh. “And this was after the explosion?”

Hartley snorted. “It’s not like I could have gotten work after Wells so kindly trashed my reputation.”

“What did he actually do?” The speedster ventured.

The musician decisively crushed the cup in is fist, letting the styrofoam pieces trickle from his fingers into a trashcan. “Said I falsified my data and plagiarized my designs from him. I used to go over my notes with him, and he made his own copies. I would have sued him for deformation of character, but, well, lawyers were slightly out of my budget, what with being disowned, so I was forced to settle with his in court.” He barked out a hollow laugh. “I had to pay them to take credit for my own designs!”

“That sounds awful.”

“Really, I thought I was describing a picnic in spring.” Green eyes glared from behind thick rims. “And no, the most horrible sound is listening to someone drink water. It’s like a car backfiring underwater. And don’t even get me started on heartbeats and electronics!”

“You can hear all that?”

“If that’s you casually asking whether I have super hearing, this is me telling you those sounds bothered me long before the particle accelerator exploded. They just got more...persistent.”

“Is that why you wear those?” Barry motioned to the bulky hearing aids.

Hartley reached up to them self consciously. “I’ve had cochlea implants since I was six. Best I can tell, they fused with my organic structures and got an upgrade. Took me weeks to figure out I wasn’t going crazy, but luckily the institution I was at had padded walls thick enough to block most sounds. Once my ears stopped bleeding, I put together some portable noise cancelers. And let me tell you, soldering irons sound like a room full of hot kettles, and steel atoms strike one another on a B flat.” He grimaced. “That’s my least favorite key.”

A laugh clawed its way out of the speedster’s throat.

The scientist turned to him, appealingly. “I mean come on! C sharp is clearly superior; F is all too common.”

Barry tamed his mirth to heartfelt chuckles. “You like music?”

“I built my first theremin when I was eight.”

“That’s pretty cool.” The speedster tucked his hands into his pockets, then removed them to tap his thighs. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused to take a breath and clear his throat. “Look, Hartley, if you ever want a job inventing stuff again, I got a friend who might be willing to fund you privately.” He scribbled an email address onto the back of the receipt with a pen he pulled from his jeans. 

The scientist looked as if the paper might bite him. “I don’t need charity.”

“This isn’t charity, this is business. You’ll get it if you meet her.”

The shorter man took the receipt, and scrutinized the email. His eyes flicked to meet Barry’s. “I take it this job is not the most legal of transactions.”

“Uh-”

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Any respectable company wouldn’t use an ‘at mail.com’ address, and any individual capable of funding the kind of work you know I’m interested in would have something more dignified than ‘ice queen’ as their name.”

“Lisa won’t force you into anything you don’t want to do,” Barry asserted. “I trust her, and she might be a bit crooked, but her heart’s in the right place.” He chuckled. “When she’s not distracted by something shiny.”

“What a glowing recommendation,” the scientist drawled, but tucked the paper into his pocket. The end of the waterfront soon gave way to over urbanized streets. Hartley sighed. “I suppose I can suffer the indignity of being carried, as I don’t fancy having to walk all the way back to Star Labs.”

Barry’s fingers twisted the fabric of his pants. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’ll let you take me back.” Hartley rolled his shoulders languorously. He slinked around his dining partner, and leaned close. “Thanks for dinner,” he said, “ while this is the best date I’ve had in a while, I really don’t think it would work out between us.” Then so softly under his breath, Barry could barely hear, “Lab bugged. Don’t trust Wells.”

He refused to speak another word, until the speedster returned him to his cell in the Pipeline, and bid him goodnight.  
...


	8. Eddie

...

 

When Eddie Thawne first moved to Central City, he tried not to build any false expectations. Somehow, though, he still found himself by turns astonished and incredulous.

Firstly, who expects to meet the love of their life while stopping a thief from stealing her purse? Eddie had never officially ever read a romance novella, however he was suspicious that his life might have started resembling one when he wasn’t paying attention.

Secondly, Central seemed to attract much stranger cases than Starling.

Thirdly, the local police force seemed to have a very insular quid pro quo system, despite Captain sign’s best efforts, and an acute distain for the supporting roles of police work.

Case in point.

“Hey lab rat, is the evidence from my case done yet?”

Eddie turned the corner to see Detective Johnson baring down on a skinny kid clutching a cup of coffee as if his life depended on it.

“There’s been a backlog. You’re pushed behind that string of murders in the towers.”

“Dammit Allen, I need that done asap!”

The techie cringed back. Eddie strode forwards.

“Leave him alone Johnson,” the blonde cut in, pushing the other man away from the techie with more force than was strictly friendly. “He’s working as fast as he can.”

“This is none of your business new guy,” Johnson sneered.

Eddie blinked, jaw set. “Well, I have a higher priority case than you going at the moment, and really don’t appreciate you stalling the guy who’s processing my evidence. Maybe he could have gotten it done by now, if you weren’t harassing him every time he gets coffee.”

The other detective grumbled, but backed off. “It better be done soon Allen,” he growled, before vanishing down the hall.

Eddie glared at Johnson’s retreating back, before turning back to the techie. “Sorry about that; not all detectives are assholes.” He proffered a hand. “I’m Eddie Thawne.”

“Barry Allen!” the younger man squeaked, fumbling to shake it. Eddie chuckled, and a dark red flush began creeping over the kid’s neck.  
...

Later, Eddie recounted to Iris his ‘heroic rescue’ (her words not his) of the ‘poor defenseless lab techie’.

“What was the guys name?” She was seated across from him durning her break at Jitters, having brought over two matching cups of coffee.

“Barry.”

Iris blinked. “Barry Allen?”

Eddie eyed his girlfriend over the rim of his mug. “Yeah, you know him?”

She shrugged. “He’s an old family friend. My dad always invited him over to Sunday dinner when we were kids.”

“No one seems to know anything about the guy,” Eddie noted, stirring his coffee.

“He’s really quiet.” Iris shrugged. “But I kind of feel bad for him, you know? Like, I was doing a report in high school about the death penalty, and when I was telling him about my stance about that versus life imprisonment, he completely blew up at me. My dad told me about the trouble with his father after that, and I tried to apologize, but...” She sighed. “Once Barry’s got an opinion about you, it’s hard to shake. We never talked much after that. In fact, I haven’t really seen him since he went off to college.”

The detective hummed sympathetically, taking a sip of his drink.

“He was always going on about impossible stuff, though. Like aliens, and Bigfoot, and tornados of lightening. My dad kind of lost his temper at him when Barry was a freshman- and I never hear my dad yell! Barry just never was the same after that, hardly ever spoke to anyone, or at least to me and dad.” She sighed. “Like I said, I feel sorry for him.”

“Considering the crazy we’ve been having in Central lately, I’m more inclined to take his stance on the impossible.”

Iris chuckled. “Which is why you should continue to read my anonymous blog on the Streak!”

“You gotta get a better name than that.”

The young reporter tossed her hair. “I’m working on it.”  
...

The weeks just kept getting weirder: arsonists exploding seemingly random parts of the city, power outages resulting in mass blackouts, Bond villain ray guns shooting icy hot death, and then-

“You’re the Flash?”

Barry’s flushed face peered out behind the tattered remains of his mask. “Please don’t tell anyone, Eddie.”

The blonde shook his head, clearing the shocked stupor from his countenance. “We’ll talk about this later, Bear. Just run!”

In a cloud of red lightening, the hero dashed away to stop he Trickster’s rain of explosive death.

The detective took a moment to realign his perspective of the world, before getting back into his car and driving back to the station.

He waited for half an hour before Barry reappeared in his lab. The forensic scientist looked startled at Eddie sitting on his lab bench, but that was soon lost under a fearful curl of trepidation.

“So-” the younger man started, but the detective cut him off.

“Do you know how many anonymous tips about you I’ve had to deal with?”

Barry looked taken aback. “Uh, sorry?”

“You should be,” the blonde huffed. “They made me start an investigation, because they thought the sightings were a sign of mass hysteria, or a bad new drug on the street. That was some of the most tedious work I’ve ever had to do. You do not understand the massive amounts of paperwork I had to fill out. I wore a brace for a month because of carpal tunnel!”

“Um.” The speedster bounced idly in place, hands fidgeting at his sides. 

Eddie took a calming breath, and massaged the pace between his eyes. “So, I gotta ask, why the red suit?”

Barry sniggered. “You find out I can break he sound barrier, and that’s your first question?”

“It seemed like a coherent place to start, and If I don’t take this one step at a time, I might go a little crazy.”

“Fair enough.” The speedster scratched the back of his head. “Well, my cloths kept catching on fire when I ran, so my team at Star Labs made me this, when I made the completely logical and sane decision to run around the city at lightening speeds to save people.”

“That was you at the Mardon case, a few months ago.”

“Yeah. Joe nearly found out who I was, but I managed to keep get my mask back on before he got a good look.”

“And then you, what, decided to keep doing it as a hobby?”

“When you say it like that-”

Eddie fixed the shorter man with a stare. “Barry, you could get seriously hurt! You’re not trained to handle criminals.”

The speedster raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t think anyone from the police academy is ‘trained’ to deal with the meta humans that have been cropping up lately.”

“Is that what we’re calling them?”

“Yep.”

“Right.” The detective took another steadying breath. “So, it’s just been you and those two scientist friends of yours?”

“And Professor Wells.”

“Guy in a wheelchair, right.” He ran a hand over the back of his head. “Right, ok. You’re coming to the gym with me.”

“Wh-”

Eddie stalled his protest with a hand. “Vigilantism is a crime for a reason. People can’t have the authority to take the law into their own hands, because then the law has no meaning. Just look at that Hood guy in Starling; people are dead because of him.” Brown eyes met brown. “But I agree with you: the force isn’t trained to deal with...meta humans. And if we go shouting about people with super powers, people will start to think I’m as crazy as you. No offense.”

“Do carry on,” Barry said, expression flat.

“The point is, you don’t have anyone trained to handle these situations working with you, but I volunteer. If this Flash thing ever gets blown open, I’ll testify that we kept things above the books.”

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this. You could lose your job, you love being on the force.”

“And I could also help save people, which is the reason I became a detective in the first place.” He held out a hand. “So, what do you say, partners?”

A bright flush crept over the back of the speedster’s neck. He cleared his throat, and took the proffered hand. “Thanks.”

Eddie smiled. “Don’t mention it.”  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a visit from the plot dust fairy over christmas. Shit just got real...in like six chapters, but still.


	9. Oliver

...

Oliver knew about Barry’s morally ambiguous use of his powers, even before the Flash filled his base with Sour Patches. But...Barry was a good kid dealt a bad hand. Like Roy. Like Oliver himself.

The Arrow was somewhat in awe of how well the speedster turned out. Even before the super powers, Barry barreled head first into helping people. Becoming the Flash only made him...more himself.

Once while out patrolling in Central, Oliver caught a crook dashing down the sidewalk with a misappropriated purse.

He planned to turn the thief into the police, but the Flash took the kid from his grip. 

“Are you going to do be stupid enough to do this again?” The forensic scientist lectured.

The kid shook his head frantically, trying not to look at the shadowy vigilante with a bow just at the corner of his eye.

“Good,” The Flash said. Digging into one of the discreetly sewn pockets of his suit, Barry pulled out a granola bar and a wad of cash, which he gave to the rather terrified teenager. “I’m going to leave you at the soup kitchen on 33rd. You either get a meal, or you volunteer. I’ll know if you haven’t.”

In a tangle of lightening, the kid was gone, and the Flash returned from his brief jog looking pleased.

“You do that for every pick pocket?” Oliver asked.

He wobbled his shoulders noncommittally. “He was just a kid.”

The Arrow shook his head. “You never cease to surprise me, Barry.”  
...

When Felicity got back from her trip to Central with Palmer, she practically gushed about how their mutually favorite speedster was doing.

“Ray bought out the whole restaurant, and Barry invited his hot blonde detective friend, who he totally has a crush on, and his foster sister. Lisa was teasing him relentlessly, it was so cute. Eddie had no idea why Barry kept turning red, and his girlfriend Iris just couldn’t stop laughing at the expression on his face.”

Oliver had to smother a smile. “So Barry’s doing ok?”

He had been worried after that whole fiasco with Rainbow Raider.

Felicity beamed. “Definitely.”  
...

Only once did wariness encroach upon Oliver’s thoughts concerning his friend.

“You shouldn’t have done that! You should have just left me there!” He snarled to the red clad hero, though the red was much more singed than usual. “Those bombs could have killed hundreds of people! You should have gone after them, not me!”

Barry set his jaw. “But they didn’t. Felicity and Cisco had a plan, and it worked. Everyone’s ok, and so are you.”

The blonde scoffed. “Plan, yeah. I heard about that. You know that had less than a hundredth of a percent of a chance of working!”

“But it did work! I don’t get why you’re so angry!”

“One person is not worth the life of a city, Barry! You should have just left me! I could have gotten out of it!” Maybe, he didn’t add.

Lightening flared in his friend’s eyes. “But it wasn’t just one person, Oliver, it was you. And despite the ever dwindling reasons, you’re my friend. You can’t ask me to choose between my family and a city, because you won’t end up liking my answer.”

The Arrow gaped. Barry blundered on.

“So stop yelling at me about this. What’s done is done. No one got hurt.” Green eyes turned pleading. “Please, can we just forget it and be happy?”

The two heros glared into the distance.

“Family, really?” Oliver finally broke.

“Shut up,” Barry huffed. “At best you’re a crazy second uncle, though I’m considering disowning you with tonight’s stunt.”

“Then I’ll be forced to disinherit you. You’ll never have the ‘my rich uncle died leaving me everything’ rags to riches story.”

“I’m in your will? Thanks! I’ve always thought the Arrow Cave would look good pained red.”

“Not for long if you keep this up.”

The duo laughed, one thinking the matter dropped, the other warily wondering just how far the other could be pushed before he slipped and fell.  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chap, but I think the fast update makes up for it.


	10. Mick

Mick was a simple guy. See fire burn. Burn fire burn! Throw something flammable into the fire, fire burns more!

The list of individuals he got along with consisted of five and a half people, two of which were no longer alive, and one of which was crazy enough to want to become a super villain because he was bored.

The half consisted of Lisa’s little friend. He wasn’t sure what to make of him. The kid was a good cop, so couldn’t be bought off, but had a rather skewed moral compass when it came to cases involving his friends.

Mick caught the kid running from a table where Lisa and Len were planning a heist, his hands over his hears, singing loudly to himself, “Lalalala, I’m not overhearing you guys plan a crime! When I dust for fingerprints and find none at a case which may or may not occur some time next week, I won’t know exactly who to search the database for! Nope, not at all! Lisa, you’re making it very hard for me to keep my job!”

When not avoiding being accessory to a crime, the kid could usually be found on the couch of whatever hideout the group was using that week, gossiping with Lisa.

“Sounds like this guy was taking advantage of her,” the woman in question was saying. “I mean, she broke him out of jail, and how does he thank her? She doesn’t deserve being locked up forever for it, though.”

“Yeah, but what else can we do? If we let her go, the mob will just-”

Mick opened the fridge and the two looked up from their gossip on the couch.

“Hey Mick, looking hot!” Lisa crowed. Her friend shrunk down, doing what the pyro assumed was his best impression of a scared rabbit. 

“No really,” Lisa continued. “You look like someone put out your bonfire. You ok?”

Mick grunted. “Friend in prison got beat up for helping the cops. Len’s taking care of it.”

“Oh, so that’s where he went,” she mused, before turning back to her friend. “Anyway, so I wanted your opinion on this yellow diamond necklace they have on display at Tiffany’s.”

“It’s horrible and ugly, and would totally not bring out your eyes; you shouldn’t steal it.”

Lisa pinched his cheek. “You say the sweetest things!”

Mick huffed at the twittering gossips, and turned back to the designated workshop, where a box of matches waited for his attention. He wondered how low of a setting he would have to use to light candles with his gun...  
...

Later, when he emerged from his layer, slightly smokier than before, the two were still chatting like the time hadn’t passed at all. Mick idly wondered how Len put up with his sister’s loquacious social life, and whether he could ‘accidentally’ light the stove on fire to get some peace and quiet in the hideout.

“Ugg, I hate that Trickster guy,” he heard Lisa complain over the clicking of the stove igniting.

“Yeah, but that was nothing compared this swarm of robot killer bees I had to deal with last week,” Barry moaned. 

“At least you got a cute personal trainer out of his shenanigans.”

The kid rolled his eyes so hard, Mick could practically hear them hit the back of his skull across the room. “Eddie’s not a personal trainer, he’s a professional badass.”

“Uh hu, sure.”

“He ran right in front of me with a shield when your jerk of a brother tried to kill me.” Barry sighed. “And he even got the other Detectives off my back when they were nagging me about how long their evidence was taking to process.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got a crush,” Lisa teased.

“What? No! Eddie’s just a friend! Besides,” Barry wrapped himself around one of the couch cushions. “He’s dating Detective West’s daughter.”

“You could always still ask, I mean, she’s cute too.”

“Lisa!” Barry shrieked, face turning scarlet. “I hardly know her!”

“I don’t hear you saying no to the threesome though...” Barry threw a pillow at her. Lisa sniggered. “But, seriously, you’re so weird. Do you fall in love with everyone who tries to become your friend?”

“Not all the time!” Barry protested.

“That girl in middle school who you did that book report with; that guy from your show choir, what was his name, Kurt?; then there was that girl in your senior year, who turned out to be one of those kick ass power dancers on music videos. I liked her.”

“Stop it!” the speedster moaned, burying his face in a pillow.

Lisa patted him on the shoulder. “Just as long as you don’t go after Cisco, I’m content to watch the slow train wreck that is your love life continue.”

“For the last time, I’m not setting you two up on a blind date!”

“He’s not still mad, is he?” The woman pouted, though Mick could hear a twinge of real worry under her breath.

“After you kidnapped us-” Barry glared at her from the corner of his eye. “-Cisco and I talked it over. We’re still friends, but I don’t want him pulled into all this anymore than he already is.”

“Come on Barry, a date isn’t like going on a crime spree.”

“With your family, I’m not even sure anymore. I mean, remember my sweet sixteen when you-”

At that point Mick’s tolerance for girl talk had burnt out. He let the skillet hit the burner with more force than necessary, as he laid his perfectly browned pancakes on a plate and stalked back to his workshop.

“I think he hates me.” He heard the kid whisper as he passed. 

“That’s just Mick’s face. If he really hated you, you would know.”

“Well, he definitely doesn’t like me, then.”

The pyro could practically hear Lisa’s smirk around the corner. “There’s an easy fix for that...”  
...

Mick glared down at the kid, arms crossed over his scarred chest. “What?”

Squaring his shoulders, the pipsqueak held up a box of matches. “You like fire, right? Want to see something cool?”

Mick raised an eyebrow.

Kid turned out to be a great lookout during a heist, so one trip to the hardware store later, found the duo crouched around a circle of about ten industrial strength fans and a tin bucket.

“Right,” the kid said, readying the camera on his phone. “Once I turn the fans on, you light the bucket on fire. Ready?”

Mick growled something incomprehensible, which the kid took as a go ahead, because a minute later the fans were roaring. A flick of the pyro’s wrist saw a lighter land in the pile of incendiary material. Then-

Heatwave almost had to wipe away a tear at the beauty of the fire before him.

“Hey kid,” he shouted over the roaring wind. “Think I can trick the Flash into making one of these at my next heist?”

Barry snorted. “I don’t think he’ll need much convincing.”

In front of them, the tornado of fire whirled on, until the fuel in the bucket burnt out, and the smoke spiraled away in the vortex created by the fans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> I head cannon Barry as demisexual, and Len as kind of sapiosexual, but instead of pure intelligence, he’s attracted to people who pique his interest and are witty enough to play his games.


	11. Hartley

...

To: icequeen230@mail  
From: spotterpiper42@mail

Greetings.

A mutual quick on his feet friend of ours mentioned that your organization might wish to employ an engineer. I am not opposed to considering your offer.

Sincerely.

(Attached: Piper_Resume)  
...

To: impossibear@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

Barry, when did I ever give you permission to hand our private email to random people? Didn’t I teach you anything about not trusting strangers? Did he offer you candy to get into his van too?  
...

To: icequeen230@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

Please Lisa? Piper’s a good guy, and besides that he knows what he’s doing. He apparently was the one to build the first prototypes of my suit. (Ok, when I say ‘good’ I mean something more along the lines of, not evil. He’s kind of an ass in person. But he’s a good guy, really.)  
...

To: impossibear@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

You owe me.  
...

To: icequeen230@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

Love you too ;3  
...

To: spotterpiper42@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

I’m afraid I’ll need a bit more than your paper resume, in order to determine whether you are qualified for the types of employment we might wish you to do for us.  
...

To: icequeen230@mail  
From: spotterpiper42@mail

Greetings.

Is this more to your liking?

Sincerely.

(Attached: link_youtube_attack_on_Rathaway_building)  
...

To: spotterpiper42@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

Let’s talk shop.  
...

To: colddayinhell0K@mail  
From: icequeen230@mail

Here’s the name of that guy who helped me with that crystal buildup in the firing mechanism. Be nice, or I won’t let you play with my toys ever again.

(Attached: link_spotterpiper42@mail)  
...

To: impossibear@mail  
From: spotterpiper42@mail

Greetings.

Next time you volunteer my services to a gang, please let me know, so I may protest your idiocy.

Sincerely.  
...

To: spotterpiper42@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

Surprise?

If it helps, Lisa says the Rogues really like you.  
...

To: impossibear@mail  
From: spotterpiper42@mail

Greetings.

They shook down my landlord.

Sincerely.  
...

To: spotterpiper42@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

That was probably Mick... He’s...complicated in how he shows he cares. Like, he keeps leaving me boxes of matches whenever I visit, ever since I showed him how to science a fire tornado.

And, at least you don’t have to pay rent anymore?  
...

To: impossibear@mail  
From: spotterpiper42@mail

Greetings.

My not paying rent hinders the socioeconomic stability of my low income housing complex, which inevitably only contributes to the problems of poverty seen in this city.

Sincerely.  
...

To: spotterpiper42@mail  
From: impossibear@mail

So, donate the money or something. Didn’t you say your landlord was a jerk anyway? Kept hiking up the rent to get people out of the building so he could sell it.

By the way, Ronnie and Prof.Stein are doing all right. I still want you to keep an eye out for Eiling- he went after anyone even mentioning FIRESTORM, and you said you were one of the ones to peer review and help edit the paper for publication.  
...

To: impossibear@mail  
From: spotterpiper42@mail

Greetings.

That is entirely against the point, Mr. Allen.

Your concern, while endearing, is, I believe, unnecessary. Despite the many drawbacks we’re discussed, at length, my position does not come without some measure of personal and job security.

Sincerely.  
...

To: colddayinhell0K@mail  
From: spotterpiper42@mail

Greetings.

Yes, I believe the ‘cold gun’ could be easily modified to those specifications. I will require my payment up front, as usual. Though, my professional honor requires me to question the wisdom of having the core overload when the handle is no longer held, and would like to further discuss design specifications to maximize user safety.

I would also like to reiterate my distaste at stooping to such barbaric means of attack, and would like to stress that our partnership is purely one of a support capacity. So, while I am sincerely flattered at your ‘Gallery’s’ fervent attempts to add to my bank account with promises of payment for public vandalism, I must continually decline.

Sincerely.  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years Everyone!
> 
> I just got in my Forever Evil: Rogue's Rebellion graphic novel christmas present to myself off a gift card, and boy is it FANTASTIC.
> 
> Like, I love villains so much, you don't even know. Well, maybe you do, but that's not the point. Point is, Forever Evil = Awesome. Captain Cold is just the best in it.


	12. Barry, Eddie, and the Rogues

Barry was catching up on analyzing those fiber samples for the captain while all the other forensic analysis's were out to lunch, when the lab door crashed open. The microscope went into his eye, while a long inky line scored itself across his case notes.

He rubbed at the fading pain in his face, and looked up. “Eddie?” He rushed to the swaying detective’s side, hovering, unsure what to do.

Eddie’s eyes were a wild red. “Iris, she’s-” He struggled to breathe through the stone like countenance of his control. “She’s missing. I need your help.”

“Of course, anything!” Barry laid a hand on his friend’s tense shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”

The detective stumbled into the lab, not noticing the door shut behind him as he listlessly hovered by the desk. “There was a housing development scheme, or something. She wasn’t very clear, just that she was in a building and there were three guys with guns. She couldn’t get out, and she called me-” 

His voice broke. Barry guided him to a seat, so he could continue. “I could hear them fire! But when I got there, there wasn’t anything!” Eddie’s face fell into his palms, spread wide as if to catch an answer from heaven. “I told her not to chase these cases! That she would end up getting hurt!”

The forensic analysts suppressed a wry twist of his lips. “I know the West family well enough to realize they never take advice from anyone but themselves. Telling her that probably just made her more reckless on principle.”

A wet chuckle shattered from the blonde’s throat. “Yeah, that sounds just like her.”

Barry looked hard at the weeping man before him, taking in the sincere way his emotions bled for his lost love. Green eyes closed in graceful acceptance of never measuring up to what could have been. When they opened, an analytical machine poised to slice the case to its finest components reared to life.

“Does Detective West know?” he said, picking up his notebook and opening to a new page. 

“Yes.” Eddie cleared his throat forcefully trying to fall back into his work mindset. “He tried to convince Sygn to put him on the job, but the captain said he was too close. Gave him some time off, and put the case on Johnson.”

Barry jotted down a note. “Johnson likes the B team to work his cases, which means we have three hours before they’re done combing the crime scene, so we can go find anything they missed. With Maya sick, I’ll probably be asked to help analyze whatever they bring in as well.” His eyes turned hard. “Since she’s a detective’s daughter, her case will be priority, in case this turns into a blackmail attempt or ransom.”

“I can ask Johnson about whatever leads he may have. After his wife, well, he’ll understand about me and Iris. He’ll let me look off the books.”

Another note. “And she said it was a housing scandal?”

“Something about strong arming people from their homes to sell the real-estate for profit.” Eddie’s voice was stronger, less susceptible to his suppressed emotions. “Roberts was investigating some arson around the area too. They might be linked.”

“Arson?” Barry’s pen stilled, and his face turned grim. Green eyes met blue in a searching stare. He put down the notebook. His friend straightened from his jittery slump, sensing the change in atmosphere.

The forensic analysts took a careful breath. “I might have a contact who can help us.”

“Really?” The detective perked up. “Who?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Is it a, you know.” He made strange wiggling movements with his hands, which might have been a pantomime of running. “Meta thing?”

“Not exactly.” A humorless movement twisted over Barry’s face. “Eddie, you’re really just going to have to trust me on this.”

“Of course I do Bear.” A watery half smile failed to cheer his face. “We’re practically partners in crime, after all.”

“Yeah.” The younger man cleared his throat. “Yeah, ok. I’ll go after my shift and see what I can find out. We can meet at Star Labs.” He hesitated. “Just, don’t shoot anyone when you get there. No matter who they are, please.”

A curiously confused expression spilt across Eddie’s face, but the lab door opened, letting in the other forensic scientists back from their lunch break before he could say anything.  
...

“Len, Flash. Flash, Len.” Lisa said, inclining her head to each person she named. “Or have you two met?”

“Just in passing.” Cold sneered. To the scarlet figure, standing in a passably intimidating pose, he said, “I must admit, Flash, I was quite surprise when my sister said you wanted to meet. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“A woman was kidnaped last night while investigating the building project on 34th and Main.”

“And what makes you think I know anything about that?”

The Flash’s echoing voice deepened with accusation. “Several strategic fires have been reported in the area as well, and your team does contain a well known arsonist.”

Cold looked over his shoulder to the looming thug at his side. “Mick?”

Heatwave grunted. “Not mine, too sloppy. Left the buildings standing.”

He looked back at the hero. “There you go.”

“You must know something.” The vibrating voice cracked with desperation. Cold tilted his head.

“Awfully concerned for some reporter, Flash. Friend of yours?”

“You do know something.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I never said she was a reporter.”

Len smirked. “Well, I never said I didn’t have information.”

“Tell me!”

“I have been hearing rumors about the Santini family playing the real-estate market,” Cold drawled. “And I could tell you more...but only if you make it worth my while.”

Red gloved hands clenched. “What do you want?”

“The same thing you do: the mob out of this city.”

“And I’m sure you’re just doing that out of the goodness of your heart?” Flash snarked.

“Central is as much my city as it is yours. We both even try to keep it standing...in our own way.” He leaned in. “The way I see it, we can ice two birds with one stone. You get your girl, and I get the upper east side. What do you say?”  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …  
> A/N: God, Len, every time you speak in the Forever Evil comic, I can’t breath. Like, seriously, you’re amazing, and I love you. 
> 
> Also, sorry that I’ve not updated since last year, guys. For those of you who have stuck with this story over my long absence as the year changed, thanks! I’ll try to update again before 2017 rolls around, but one can never bet on the future. ;3
> 
> Anyway, have some plot and enjoy!


	13. The Rogues and Team Flash

...

“Since when do we team up with criminals?” Cisco grumbled, gaze never wavering from the trio of gun wielding maniacs, who had kidnaped him not too long ago.

Lisa winked and blew him a kiss.

The scientist flushed.

“We need their help to find Iris.” The Flash said, arms crossed over his chest.

“Who?”

“My girlfriend,” Eddie cut in from his stoic position lurking in the corner. His hands hadn’t left his gun since we walked into the lab, though he had refrained from shooting, much to Barry’s relief.

“Nice little setup you’ve got here, Flash,” Cold drawled conversationally, looking around the lab space. “Though I was sure you had another member in your merry band of misfits.”

“Wells is out on a business meeting,” Barry dismissed. “He won’t know anything about this.”

Cold raised an eyebrow. “Keeping secrets from your elders, Flash?”

The speedster scowled, and turned back to the computer screen, where a city wide map was blinking with several police and traffic reports.

Idly, his mind drifted to several hours earlier, and a hushed conversation he held with his best friend.

“Cisco, I need something to disable any kind of recording device or camera in the building.”

The scientist blinked around his lollipop. “I should have expected bribery when you brought me candy.” With a slurp he took the sweet from his mouth. “Dare I ask why?”

Barry ran a hand over the back of his head, careful to keep his gaze from flicking around the room. “I don’t want any evidence of the next few hours.”

“I can just turn off all the surveillance cameras.”

“Please Cisco?” Barry begged. “I just need to be sure this won’t be recorded.”

The scientist glanced sideways at his friend, contemplatively. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ll let you know when this is all done. I promise. And I’ll buy you your weight in Twizzlers.”

Cisco hummed consideringly in the back of his throat, but couldn’t hide the grin splitting his face for long. “All right, one mini EMP coming right up. Just, give me some warning so I can turn off my computer before you use it? Anything this baby hits will fry.”

The speedster used the tiny electro bomb about an hour before the Rogue’s arrival. He heard tiny fizzes and pops in the walls and ceiling, which had definitely not corresponded with any equipment his friends had known about.

A half forgotten warning had Barry shoving the tiny device into the bottom of his backpack to use again later. He really wished he was just paranoid, but reality seemed to be proving him wrong...or right, as the case may be.

He shook his head, returning to the present, where three thieves appreciatively eyed the unspoken price tag attached to most of the lab’s equipment.

“We should start by finding out where they might be holding Iris,” Barry barked from behind his cowl, voice slightly distorted.

Cold stepped forward. “Assuming that this girl is still alive and not simply at the bottom of the river-”

Eddie lurched to his feet, hand clenching around his gun.

The thief froze him with a stare. “Cool it. If they found out her connection to the CCPD, they’ll probably keep her alive. Santini’s are always looking for new ways to blackmail Central’s finest.”

Grey blue eyes ticked back to the speedster. “We’ve been casing their operation for months. And, assuming this girl is still alive, they’ll probably be holding her in one of their safe houses.” A smirk curled the edges of his mouth. “Luckily for you, we know where all of those are.”

“Lenny likes to be thorough,” Lisa chimed in, winking at the heroes. 

“Can you point them out on a map?” Eddie charged in, striding from his corner with his detective face in full effect.

“Easily.”

Taking his cue, Cisco opened his schematics of the city on his computer.

“Cool,” Cold said, leaning over his shoulder. The scientist sat still, much like a rabbit faced with a fox might. The thief poked at several locations on the screen, each of which lit up with a red dot.

“These are their main hideouts, and there three more which are are slightly more equipped for long term guests.”

“Right, then let’s go! Where are they?” Eddie’s fists clenched.

“Not so fast,” Cold drawled. “While I’m sure you’re raring to play hero, detective, there’s the small matter of my deal with the Flash for this information.” His head canted to the side. “If I tell you which castle your damsel is held in, you’ll just run off to rescue her, and then where will I be? No, we’re hitting all of the bases in one go, and you’ll just have to trust me that she’s in at least one of them.”

“There’s over a dozen of them,” Cisco said. “And how does breaking into some buildings destroy a mob anyway?”

“We’ve been paying them little visits since arriving in Central,” Lisa said, sliding an arm over the scientist’s shoulder. “These are shipment houses, suppliers, labs~ everything a good little crime ring needs to stay afloat.”

“This is the last knock in the hull, so to speak.” Cold’s smirk should have been illegal. “But we’ve got speed on our side, so I don’t think we’ll be having a problem.”

The group settled back to talk semantics and timing (with the Flash mostly trying to keep Eddie and Cold from drawing their weapons, and Lisa with her hands half way down Cisco’s collar).

Mick, already losing interest in the unnecessary talking, moved to examine a complicated piece of medical equipment on the counter.

“Don’t you dare touch that!” Caitlin snapped, giving a sharp slap to the pyro’s outstretched hand. She appeared to realize just exactly whom she had hit about three seconds after committing the act. A light flush of terror crept along he back of her neck, but she resolutely set her jaw and refused to apologize.

Meanwhile, Mick stared at her with newfound fire in his eyes.

“I don’t see why you want to bother with clearing out the buildings,” Len drawled. His half lidded eyes never left the speedster’s face.

“Because I’m not a murderer, Cold.” Barry snapped back. 

The thief considered that. “But you will be a budding arsonist after this.”

Barry opened his mouth to bark back a reply, but Lisa cut in.

“Ladies, please. We can talk shop later. For now, how about we focus on the matter at hand?”

Cold looked affronted, while Barry pouted at her betrayal.

Cisco cleared his throat. “Well, if we’re all done here- Flash, a word?”

The scientist dragged his friend to the break room just off the hall from the lab.

Barry crossed his arms. “Cisco, for the last time, yes she’s single, but you have to ask her out yourself! If I do it for you, that’s a sign of weakness, and Lisa never lets up when she smells blood in the water.”

“Dude, what? No! This is not about that!” He plucked at the red leather. “You can’t go do this as the Flash.”

Barry grimaced. “Well I can’t go in naked, or with my clothes on fire either.”

He grinned toothily. “Well, I have been working on a stealth suit for special occasions...”

And that was how the speedster found himself in a black mirror of his own normal red attire, only with a concealing piece of fabric over his nose and mouth. (“For smoke inhalation,” Cisco had said.)

When he reappeared in the lab, Cold raised an eyebrow, gaze slowly rising from his dark boots to his eyes. Barry was thankful the new mask concealed his flush. The older man ponderously placed his hand on his chin. 

“Color doesn’t really suite you, Scarlet.”

“Sh-shut up, and let’s get this over with!” He blustered in response.

Lisa sniggered. Mick was too preoccupied with staring at Caitlin to give anyone else much notice.  
...

The operation was simple, on paper anyway. Flash runs through each base planting explosives, while evacuating personnel and searching for Iris.

The mobsters would be discreetly knocked out, and tossed in an empty warehouse. Eddie waited at the CCPD station for a tip about a drug ring, which would result in all said mobsters being arrested. The detective and Barry shared a look before the speedster left, and the Flash made a point to rough up Iris’s captors on behalf of his friend.

Mick, while holding a heavy distain for explosives for sullying the purity of fire, was scarily adept at setting charges, and talking others through said procedure. 

Barry tried not to cringe at the sensuous descriptions of exactly what kind of fire balls each different wire configuration could produce. He knew the clinical details from his studies as a forensic analyst, but the pyro’s sultry words mad the hero severely uncomfortable and hot under the collar. He would definitely not be forgetting that lecture any time soon.

Lisa would be manning communications with the rest of Team Flash, with an extra detonator in hand. The main switch was in the hands of Heatwave, who would be perched outside of Cold’s meeting in the Santini’s opulent main office.

Len, meanwhile, would be thoroughly threatening the new head of the mob family, before the explosions went off in a show of force exactly six hundred and sixty three seconds after his exiting the building.

Everything hovered in place, ready for the pendulum to fall and begin the clockwork procession. But you know what they say about first contact with the enemy.  
...

Barry found Iris tied up in the fifth building he tried. The young woman looked rather worse for ware, but her clothing was un-torn, unless you count the gag made up of a sleeve from her sweater.

In an instant she was deposited on the steps of the hospital, and the Flash was already on his way to his final stop, half a spring in his step. He could still hear Eddie’s sob of gratitude over the coms.

The last charge in the last warehouse was finally set.

“Fire in the hole!”

Cisco’s voice sounded back over the radio. “I’ll let Heatwave know.”

“Lenny said to start the timer now,” came Lisa’s more distant voice. “What, I’ve got him on the phone.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “I’ll just run off then.”

“Button’s pushed, we’ll see you soon.”

Cracking his neck, the Flash walked to the warehouse door, taking a moment to breathe before he ran off again.

Behind him, a shot rang out. The bullet slammed into his back, and he stumbled, just in time to miss the other aimed for his head.

Clenching his teeth, Barry fumbled on the floor for a projectile, while his legs twitched spastically. His gloved hand hit a quarter. Taking aim, the speedster flicked the bit of metal right between his attacker’s eyes. The guy went down hard, and Barry hissed a breath of relief.

“I’m hit,” he growled into the coms. 

“Flash,” Caitlin’s voice was frantic. “Your vitals are fluctuating- you’re in shock. That bullet hit your spine!”

“Guess that explains why I can’t feel my legs,” he chuckled, dragging his body arm over arm closer towards the door. “How long before this place explodes again?”

“We hit the timer after you said the last charge was set. The entire block will blow in two minutes!”

“Fantastic!” He panted, limbs shaking. “So, about that whole being in shock thing? I think it’s hitting me really hard right about now.”

“Can you get out of the building?” Lisa’s voice was the kind of cultivated calm one only acquires when faced with a situation which very much deserved every flight or fight response a body could muster.

“I think so?”

“Just get yourself to the street.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he growled, teeth squeaking with how hard he clenched them.

“Move it Speedy Mouse!”

“Just for the record.” Barry panted as he fumbled for the door latch. “My body is healing over a bullet still lodged in my ass. So every time I move, it’s just this side of excruciating.”

“If you can whine, you’re not working hard enough!”

He heaved himself into the back alley of the warehouse. “Calm your tits, I’m practically at the curb.”

“But are you there? No! So no breaks!”

The Flash groaned, forgoing the use of his upper body to roll through the slimy coating of the alleyway. “I’m going. I’m bleeding, but I’m going.”

“Fifty seconds!” Came Cisco’s voice, just as Barry rolled into the gutter.

“I’m in the street,” he groaned. “Now what?”

“Hold tight, your ride should be there in-”

A screeching of tires skidded to a halt an inch from the speedster’s head. The horn blared three times.

“-now.” Lisa finished.

“Great, another near death I can add to tonight.” The young man panted, clawing at the door handle.

“Ten seconds!”

He crashed into the passenger seat, left shoulder jarring painfully against the stick shift. 

“Go go go!” He chanted, while simultaneously trying to feel for the bullet in his back before the wound closed completely over. Caitlin was a good doctor, but had no qualms cutting through newly regrown muscle to get shrapnel.

“Cool off Flash,” the driver snarked. “And put on your seatbelt.”

“Cold?” The speedster gasped, just as the accelerator hit the floor, and the car roared down the blacktop. Barry screamed as the seat put pressure on his back.

“Five,” Len counted, a smirk playing across his lips.

He shifted gears. “Four.”

The smell of burning rubber permeated the cabin. “Three.”

Barry’s seatbelt snapped into place. “Two.”

Lights blurred. “One.”

Then everything was on fire.  
...

“O~w.” Barry moaned.

“Almost done,” Caitlin soothed. “The bullet shattered against your spine.” A metallic clink signaled another piece of metal dropping into the nearby dish.

“Suck it up Speedy Mouse.” Lisa’s knuckles were clenched white around his fingers. The older woman let out a shaky breath. “You’re gonna be fine, so stop whining!”

Another clink. 

“That’s the last of it.” Caitlin gathered up her forceps and bloody gauze.

“I still can’t feel my legs.” Barry grumbled, face pressed into the mattress. His mask creased under his cheek, still present, despite the top of his suit being cut away to expose his injury.

Lisa’s eyes met Caitlin’s. The doctor pulled a face, hands stilling.

“Er, uh, well. With your healing factor, it, er, and it’s really not as bad as it looks, so- We’re just going to wait. If’s you’re not better by the time Dr. Wells comes back next week, then, uh, we’ll deal with it then!” She practically threw the medical tools in the bin to escape.

Barry lay still, face down on the operating table. Lisa’s thumb began to trace soothing circles on the back of his palm.

“How bad is it actually?”

“I thought we agreed not to ask that question after the time you left school with two black eyes.”

He winced. “That bad?”

“Not necessarily. Miss Uptight Doctor said your spine was healing, and the bullet just hit a nerve cluster. Digging it out just damaged the area more. You should get your legs back...soon.”

Barry sighed. “Your brother is a jerk.”

“Now now, Flash, is that any way to talk about someone who saved your life?” The smirk preceded Cold into the makeshift hospital.

“Go awa~y!” Barry groaned into the mattress. 

“Leave.” Lisa’s snarl could have scared a bear back into its cave.

The older man raised his hands placatingly. “I just wanted to talk a little business.”

Her eyes sparked. “Leave. Now.”

A strange expression crossed the thief’s face. Pale blue eyes ticked from one figure to the other and back again, smile growing incrementally wider with each pass, until he was in danger of becoming as coocoo as a clock.

Barry squeezed her hand. “No, Lisa it’s fine. Just help me roll over.”

Lisa’s attention immediately focused softly on her injured friend. Careful to not aggravate his injury, she helped guide his legs as the young man twisted around. He leaned back with a hiss, but fixed Cold with a steely stare.

“So what do you want?”

Len’s smirk calmed into a knowing puddle of smug. Barry would very much have liked to punch him.

“We teamed up well tonight, Flash. Just wanted to say, thanks for pulling your weight. We should do it again some time.”

“No.” Lisa’s tone broke no argument.

Barry chuckled. “Seems the lioness has spoken.”

“Then how about this.” Wintery eyes fixed on the hero. “You leave off sending my Rogues to jail during our little play dates, and when we start making more power plays in the city. In return, we’ll handle the underbelly of crime, and you keep running around playing hero. We both make Central safer in our own way.”

Barry tilted his head consideringly. “Ok. But if any innocents die on your watch, the deal’s off.”

“Sounds fair.” Len was about to turn to go, when Lisa’s voice broke in like a scythe.

“AND, we’ll be HAPPY to watch the city while you get better. Won’t we Lenny?” Her head swiveled to face her brother like a golden viper.

Cold winced. “Happy to, of course.”  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So… Did anyone catch that Barry totally just killed that guy who shot him? Yes? No? Ok, I’ll just leave that here then. Also, whoo, long chapter. Nearly 3k.


	14. Lenny and the Flash

...

Len tended not to take notice of Lisa’s toys, beyond a cursory background check.

Barry Allen, CSI for the CCPD, in foster care since he was eleven, with a nose cleaner than a museum display case, hardly registered as a flash on his radar.

Kid’s father in jail gave the thief momentary pause, but only momentary. He knew better than most people exactly how far an apple can roll from the tree in terms of professional attitude. Len supposed that the kid’s close connection to his father could be indicative of sympathy for less than legal pursuits, but it seemed unlikely.

He thought, at first, Lisa was simply stringing the kid along for a con. Contacts in evidence lockup were invaluable. However, the moment he brought up the idea in passing, his sister glittered furiously, and shot him down.

“You don’t incriminate my friends, Lenny!” She fumed. “Only I’m allowed to do that!”

The thief blinked slowly, but let it go. Later, he hacked into her computer and found several years worth of email correspondences. Glancing through them revealed a level of intimacy he did not think his sister capable of developing with anyone, save himself.

Len briefly wondered if he should give the kid a shovel talk, or be worried of his sister’s possible cougar like habits. But, watching the duo gossip on the couch (and since when had the kid started spending afternoons hanging around his hideouts?) he realized that, no, the pair definitely were not engaged in any kind of romantic relationship. 

Unless them gossiping about the finer points of some blonde detective’s physique indicated that they were in an open relationship... He shook his head. No, Lisa was too jealous about her possessions to ever share. That trait ran in the family.

Speaking of the terrible two; Len craned his head over the kitchenette to see his sister idly cleaning her gun while watching some kind of teen drama where people broke out into song every few scenes.

“Don’t you usually hang out with your friend around this time?”

Lisa shrugged. “Barry’s visiting his dad up in Iron Heights.”

A half forgotten memory tickled the back of Len’s mind. Oh. “His last name’s Allen, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason.”

The next time Len overtly noticed the kid was when Lisa barged into his planning session for a heist later that week with Mick.

“Lenny, I need the new Netflix password!” His sister crowed.

“It hasn’t changed since the last time you asked me.” He didn’t raise his eyes from the blueprints on the office desk.

“Is that the museum?” the kid asked, seemingly despite himself.

Len looked up, canting his head just so, to entice a frustrated blush from the brunette. “Yes.”

“Are you running distraction detail for the Darbynion family again?” Lisa cut in, nosing through the papers herself. 

“What detail?” the kid looked as if he wished he could sink through the floor, or at least control his mouth.

Len stopped that unhelpful trail of thought. “Some of the less incompetent criminals of the city have realized that the Flash, for all his speed, can’t be in two places at once. I’m merely capitalizing on this.”

“We call it Flash baiting!” Lisa crowed helpfully. “Run in, make a scene, banter for a bit, and go home to get paid. Win-win, and and we even sometimes get the loot.”

The kid looked as if he swallowed a lemon. “What? That’s- Don’t you guys have an agreement with- with the Flash?”

The Golden Glider rolled her eyes, and affectionately patted his shoulder. “Cool it, Barry. Lenny always does a background check on these things; he never takes distraction detail for things he doesn’t tolerate. That means no drugs or trafficking.”  
...

Cold never expected much from the kid, other than his apparent fixture on the couch of his sister’s life. Until he came crashing through the door of his favorite base, shoulders shaking, and face distraught.

“Is Lisa here?” Barry said, fists clenched so hard they were shaking.

Len tilted his head ponderously. “She took a spa day. Won’t be back till next week, I’m afraid.”

“Can you give me the number? I just- she’s not answering her email, and I need to talk to her. Her old burner phone’s not working either.”

“Sorry kid, she’s off the grid. Giving everyone the cold shoulder.” The thief didn’t mention the man, responsible for his sister’s bad mood, nor the excessive planning and pointed comments Len had set in motion for this blowout to occur. He might not always take a hand in his sister’s life, but when he did, he was thorough. Rosco wasn’t a good boyfriend for her at all.

An uncharacteristic growl rumbled in the young man’s throat. Sparks danced along his fingers, as the nails bit into his palms.

Len returned to the present and considered him. He opened the front door wider. “Why don’t you come in; you look on the verge of cracking.”

“No, I should go-”

“Lisa would be upset if I let go off and...do something stupid.”

The forensic scientist tried to snort, but it came out closer to a sniff. Wrapping his arms around his chest, he shuffled inside to perch by the kitchenette’s island counter.

“Want a drink?” Len said, opening the fridge for a beer.

“No thanks.”

Twisting the top off the bottle, Len leaned against the cupboard, facing his guest. “So, care to share?”

“I found out the man who killed my mother has been pretending to be my friend.” His voice wavered, gaining an eerie echoey quality. “And it’s all my fault that he tried to kill her in the first place.”

Len blinked, caught off guard by the sudden escalating vehemence he was faced with.

“And on top of that,” the vibrating man seethed. “I found out he’s been spying on me, and then he kidnaps one of my friends!” He slammed his fish against the granite counter, which cracked like a skull. “I’m going to find him, and I’m going to kill him.”

“No, you’re not.”

“What?” Barry’s eyes flashed with lightening.

The thief took a sip of his beer and considered him. “You won’t do that, because you don’t have what it takes to be a killer, Flash. Which is why you’re here looking for Lisa, because you want someone to talk you out of it.”

Lightning crackled in panic around Barry’s eyes. “What? No- I’m- I’m not the Flash! That’s silly!” He raised his hands as if to ward off the accusation, and just seemed to notice the sparks dancing between his fingers.

His crestfallen look nearly made Len snort into his drink, which would have been painful, what with the carbonation. Was still a near thing.

“How long?”

Len sobered enough to only be slightly amused, out of respect for the speedster’s tone. “Lisa said she knew the Flash. Once you started hanging around, it didn’t take me too long to figure out.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“For now? Nothing. You don’t exactly have any family I want to threaten, I already have threatened all of your friends at least once, and if I go to the press, well, our little game would end much too soon.”

“Right, er, well.” The speedster ran a hand over his eyes. “I guess I should just-”

“Just take the spare room.” The thief waved in the direction of the hallway. “You shouldn’t be driving in your condition. Road hazard and all that.”

“It’s fine, I only just ran over-”

“Do you know how much damage a body traveling at Mach 4 can do?”

“Er, yes?”

“All the more reason for you to stay.” He sauntered to the kitchenette for another drink. “Password on the Netflix is the same, if you wanted to chill on the couch.”

A deep flush crept over Barry’s neck. “I think I’ll just, yeah, bedroom.” The red breeched his collar and rolled onto his face. “I mean, it’s been a long day, and I just think I need to relax- er-” He looked desperate for the floor to swallow him whole. “Sleep! I’m going to sleep!”

In a blur, the speedster fled. The guest bedroom door slammed shut a moment later.

A ponderous smirk spread across the thief’s face, and he took a sip of his beer.  
...

“Talk,” Cold barked into the phone.

“FYI, there’s a giant telepathic gorilla in the sewers. I fought it: it was horrible, and gross, and it ruined my suit, which sucks, because I was just starting to break in those pants. Thought you ought to know.”

The dial tone clicked before the thief could speak again. Len squinted suspiciously at his phone, before calling to his sister lazing on the couch.

“I think the Flash might have taken too many hits to the head lately. He just called to tell me about a gorilla in his pants.”

Lisa snorted into her cola, and spent the next five minutes choking with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Daw, look, they’re making friends!
> 
> See, up until this point, Barry hasn’t really registered on Len’s radar. He was just some weird kid his sister brought home sometimes to play dress up and gossip with. So Len knew Barry existed, but kind of obliquely. Like in a ‘I wouldn’t recognize your face outside of this familiar setting, because I take more notice of the light fixtures than you’ kind of way.
> 
> Also, while Barry might have spur of the moment killed people he was fighting in self defense, premeditated killing is a very different matter. But it is one even cannon Barry starts dabbling in in S2. This Barry, well, he might be at that point, but Len (who knows just what that path can start doing to a person) tells him no. “At least one of us has to be better than that,” he thinks to himself.
> 
> Netflix and chill is a colloquialism for sex, just fyi. Thats why Barry gets so flustered. Does Len know exactly what he said and its implications? Maybe just a little. He more likes to see the kid flustered than anything; it’s all apart of the game.
> 
> For those of you who caught it, yes, Len only just realized last chapter that Barry was the Flash, but he’s not gonna say that. Much cooler to appear that he’s known all along ;3 .


	15. Cold and Barry

...

Barry tugged at his sleeve, uncomfortably aware of every leather and spike clad eye watching him enter the bar. It wasn’t like he had never been to Saints and Sinners before, but without the glinting viper that was Lisa hanging off his arm, or the reassuring glower of Mick at his back, he felt uncomfortably aware of his potential jail bait status.

A well cut figure in the back set up the pool cues. The speedster nearly sighed in relief when he recognized Len’s shaved head.

He dashed over, just shy of too fast. The villain raised an eyebrow when he came into view.

“Little early in the week for you, isn’t it Scarlet?” The pet name lingered across his tongue in a manner which made Barry feel decidedly flustered.

“I need your help,” he shot out, voice more steady than he felt.

A smirk curled its way over the older man’s lips. “Let me guess, your friends at the station finally found out about your little double life, and now you need a place to hide?”

“What? No!” The speedster was taken aback. His hands worried the sleeves of his shirt. “There’s a problem at Star Labs. We need to move the people we’re holding there.”

“Dare I ask where?”

The worrying intensified. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Well, pull up a chair.” Cold said, setting up another shot. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Several minutes later saw the pool table abandoned while the criminal fixed the hero with a pale blue stare. “So, let me get this straight, you want us to, what, help you illegally transport a bunch of super powered criminals to some deserted island prison?”

Barry’s arms crossed over his chest, fingers tapping. “Not exactly. We started holding metas in the Pipeline because no where else could contain their powers if they were given to the police. Nimbus randomly went on a killing spree, Bivolo robbed a bank, and Mardon tried to drown the city with a tidal wave. But people like Shawna and Tony don’t deserve to be locked up in there. Their crimes aren’t worth a life sentence.”

His fists clenched. “Wells already got Tony and Bates killed in of his stupid schemes. And now the rest of those people under my watch might get killed in another.” Hazel eyes met blue. “I don’t know what to do with them, but maybe you do.”

“Have you tried talking to your little friend about this?”

The Flash winced. “I needed to ask you about it first.” He chuckled. “Eddie and I already talked about it a while ago, and Iron Heights can’t hold these guys. And I mean, I love Caitlin, and Cisco’s my best friend, but they clearly did not even take an elective in the humanities while in school. Even I know that rehabilitation consists of more than throwing a self help book at someone.” His voice gained a ponderous quality. “Though to be fair, Wells was the one who claimed to be taking care of it all, so they probably didn’t even do that.”

The Flash blinked, eyes refocusing on Cold. “Sorry, got into a violent circle of anger there for a minute. So, you in?”

“I’ll expect something in return. Can’t go around doing favors for free; it will ruin my reputation.”

“All right, what do you want?”

Len wrote down a number on a napkin and slid it across the table to Barry. The speedster glanced at the figure and scowled.

“I’m not going to rob a bank.”

Cold smirked. “I also accept goods of equal or greater value.”

“We don’t have time for a heist either. Give me something else.”

“What if the heist occurred after this little operation?”

Barry looked sideways at him. “I’m listening.”

“Of course, if I’m doing half the work on the heist, I want something else too.”

The younger man huffed. “Ok, two small favors in exchange for the big one you’re helping me on. What do you want?”

“I want all record of me erased. You have access to the CCPD databases. I want every mention and piece of evidence of me gone.”

“That’s not a small favor,” Barry grumbled, but inclined his head. “And the heist?”

“In due time. I want our little outing together to be special.”

The younger man stared at him flatly. “No museums; I happen to think private collections are not the best place for priceless artifacts.”

Len pouted. “You’re no fun.”  
...

“Is this going to be a regular thing? because it’s starting to feel like a regular thing.” Cisco complained, as he once again found himself in a room full of Rogues.

“You not happy to see me?” Lisa pouted, golden lashes fluttering.

The engineer flushed, and turned back to his monitor. “Hey Rathaway.” He called, voice not quite cracking as he changed topic. “Are you done wiring up that trailer?”

“Just looking at your plans, I would be lucky to have found the circuit board,” the other scientist snarked from across the lab, elbow deep in a wire ridden metal box. “But yes, I am done.”

“Right, I’ll go hook it up to the truck then!” Cisco squeaked, as Lisa tickled the back of his neck. Snatching up the box, he fled the room.

Hartley rolled his eyes, before joining Barry by one of the empty desks. The speedster waved, and proffered his box of Chinese takeout. The scientist declined with a shake of his head, and sat in front of one of the blinking monitors.

“God, I’ve missed this computer grid.” He sighed. “I spent six months on just the circuitry. Nothing will ever be and smooth and perfect as this operating system, until I finally get around to building another.”

Barry snorted. “I’m glad you’re so humble concerning your science babies.”

“Quiet neanderthal. Your amusement at my expense only hinders the progression of human knowledge.”

A noodle went down the wrong pipe, and Barry choked, in equal parts pain and mirth. He beat a fist against his chest, until he could breath again.

Hartley rolled his eyes, and spun his chair around. “So, I noticed you made some improvements on your holding cells since my last visit.”

“Eddie spent a year as a warden in Fox River, so he knew more about this stuff than us.” Barry shrugged his shoulders. “We spend like a week refitting one of the break rooms to act like a yard. Nimbus can’t be let out, and Shawna and Bivolo wear special glasses, but other than that, I feel less like I’m breaking the Geneva convention.”

“Eiling’s been quiet since your last encounter. Caitlin was more involved with the project than I was, but he always had a certain,” Hartley’s nose wrinkled, “distasteful demeanor.” He glanced sideways at the Flash. “Have you warned them?”

Barry rubbed a hand over his bicep. “I don’t think they believed me, but I think they listened enough to know the basics. Shawna seemed pretty freaked when Ronnie came in to tell them about the base they took Stein to, so I think she’ll be wary at least.”

The musician hummed, fingers steepled in his lap. “I’ll write up a report for Cold. He, at least, appreciates thorough data checks.”

Hartley tapped at the computer keys for a few moments, then his eyes ticked to the side. “Are you alright?” His voice was carefully low. “I knew about Wells being, well, but I didn’t-“

Barry put down his food, appetite waining. His lungs filled, held, and evenly exhaled. “No. This is never going to be ok. But I can’t let the person whose hurt me so much still control me even when they’re not here.” His tone gained a singsong undercurrent of quotation. “When that happens, then they’ve won.”

“That’s more mature than I expected of you, Flasher.” A fragile quirk raised the scientist’s lips. “Taking the moral high ground, very heroic.”

“I’m not.” Barry’s voice was contained, placid like Loch Ness and equally full of danger. “I’m not forgiving what he did. If I ever see him again, I’ll-“ His breath caught, and the paper container in his fist crumpled.

Hartley’s eyes intensified, and he turned from the computer. “When that happens,” he said, laying a hand on his friend’s vibrating wrist. “You call me. I’ve done the whole lone ranger revenge thing, and found the dark catacombs of the mind to be more navigable with a companion who brings a lantern.”

Barry’s breathing calmed from hyperventilation back to restrained turmoil. He shifted his grip, until he was clinging to the musician’s hand. “Thanks.”

“Really, don’t mention it.” His friend scoffed nonchalantly. “My reputation will be completely ruined.”  
…

“All right, show time.” Cisco breathed over the coms. “You ready for this Barry?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Right, rig failure in three, two-“

Something hissed and clunked on the underside of the truck.

“I hope you know what you’re doing Flash,” the scientist said under his breath.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  A/N: I think I’m changing Barry’s eye color every time I type it…green, brown, hazel….well, at least I know they’re not blue. 
> 
> Ferris Air played out the same as it did before, only every one was in on the plan to let the meta’s free. The way I see it, is they set up a show of Len letting the meta’s go, so that even the guys who don’t join Len feel indebted to him. There’s not really a big liar revealed scene planned, bc the new rogue’s don’t know who the Flash is.
> 
> Also, Hartley, you adorable little muffin, I love you so much. He’s so bad at this thing called human emotions (I head cannon him as being a little bit Asbergers-y, because you know, he is a scientist and I’m allowed to generalize a field I’m apart of), but he tries so hard.
> 
> And, yes, Fox River is a nod to prison break.


	16. Barry and Lisa and Len

...

Team Flash was gathered in Jitters for their weekly celebratory coffee bonanza. Things were a bit tense, what with discovering Well’s true identity, but Cisco insisted that the heroes needed a break, before the stress got to them, and insisted the meeting be accompanied by a night of old comedies. Barry was the only one who agreed to the last bit.

“Where’s Eddie and Lisa?” Caitlin said, over her mocha latte. “Usually they’re pretty prompt.

“Eddie’s out on a case. He said next week’s round is on him.” Barry sipped his double espresso black. “Lisa should be here though.”

Speak of the devil, the brunette chose that moment to stride through the cafe’s doors. Her black coat was faded, and her shirt looked rumpled and slept in.

“Lisa!” The speedster made to get up, but Cisco beat him to the punch.

The scientist stood close, hands wavering, as if wanting to reach out but unsure if his fingers would survive. “Are you ok?”

The woman shook her head. “I need your help.”

“Yeah, of course! What’s wrong?”

“Lenny’s been kidnaped.” Lisa said, eyes watery. 

Barry’s fingers went numb, and his coffee clattered to the table. Caitlin swore, moving her purse from the spreading puddle of caffeine. 

Cisco looked between his friends. “How about we head over to Star Labs to talk a bit more in private.” He stressed the last word, head jerking to indicate the growing crowd of onlookers attracted by Caitlin’s creative swearing and cry for napkins.

The speedster nodded dumbly, hands clenching on nothing. By the time the group made their way back to the lab, he slipped into his analytical CSI mode, though his voice was suspiciously devoid of any inflection when he spoke.

“Lenny, me, and Mick were knocking down the casher at the Central City Racetrack. After Mick burned through the side of the building, I turned around and saw Lenny get thrown into the back of a van.” Her breath shuddered. “I would have followed them, but someone hit me from behind and knocked me out. When I woke up, everyone was gone.”

The forensic specialist hummed. “And Mick?”

“Went underground. We keep ratio silent for a week after a bad heist, you know that.”

Barry rounded on the resident engineer. “Cisco, do we have a way to track Len?”

Cisco danced to one of his computers. “I can track the ultraviolet cold signature of his gun…though if no one has used it recently, that might not do us much good.”

“Check anyway.”

A moment later, he struck gold. “Found it. The gun was last used uptown on 66th.”

Lisa’s eyes were bright. “Great, let’s go.”

“Have you had your head checked out?” Barry interrupted her momentum. “You could have gotten a concussion.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go save Lenny.”

The speedster turned to Caitlin. “Can you do a full scan on her please, to make sure there’s no lasting damage?”

“On it.” The doctor promised, linking arms with the teary eyed woman. “Come on,” she whispered. “You know how Barry gets when he starts worrying; easier just to humor him.”

The two walked out into the adjoining medical bay. Barry and Cisco shared a look. 

“You make sure that she’s ok while I go check this out.” The speedster’s gaze summoned up every last drop of friendship and trust.

Cisco nodded soberly. “Dude, of course.”

In a flash, Barry was clad in red and dashing through the internal office of some contractor. He saw his dork in a parka casually walking down the aisle.

“Len?”

The thief’s head ticked to the side. “Barry!”

“Are you ok?”

“Peachy.” Then he raised the cold gun, and fired. Condensation froze into icy manacles, cementing the speedster to the floor.

“W-what?” Barry shivered.

Len’s smile was black and brittle.  
…

The speedster met her eyes. “He said the guy he was working with was your father.”

Lisa paled, her hand rising in horror to catch the silent scream behind her lips. Barry’s arms immediately wound around her shoulders, holding together all the shuddering pieces threatening to fall apart at the cracks.

Cisco looked between the two. “Wait, but, why is this a big deal? So you come from a family of crooks, so what-“

“Drop it.” Barry growled. 

His friend flinched back, face wary.

Lisa daubed at the moisture pricking the corners of her eyes. “Stop being mean.” She sniffed, pushing away. “My..father, no, Lenny would never work with him willingly. He’s evil.”

Her hand lingered on Barry’s arm, before she crossed her arms over her chest, face composed. “No, there has to be something going on.”

“I’ll look into it.” The speedster swore.  
…

If anything, Len was predictable in his patterns. Stake outs were never something Barry ever say himself doing, since his work with the CCPD was purely analysis not field work. However he was completely willing to pick up the new skill. His patience paid off when Len finally sauntered into Saints and Sinners.

Changing out of his suit back at Star Labs took less than a minute, but running back to the bar without his clothes catching fire took longer, so when he finally entered the building, Len has halfway through a plate of fries.

“Fancy seeing you here Scarlet.” He drawled, as Barry sat across from him in the booth. “Pass me the salt.”

The speedster didn’t move. “Len, what’s going on? Why are you working with Lewis?”

Cold reached for the salt himself, eyes not raising from the conglomerate of ketchup and spuds on his plate. “Things are complicated with family.”

A fist slammed into the wood, upsetting the salt. “You’re not the only one who cares, Len.” Barry seethed, leaning so far across the table they were nearly nose to nose. “Now tell me what’s going on! Let me help you!”

The thief remained impassive. “You seem to waste a lot of time saving people who don’t want to be saved.”

“Well, what can I say, I’m selfish.”

Blue eyes flicked up. “Leave it alone Barry.”

“No. If he’s doing something, I’m going to help!” Barry snarled. “You guys are my family. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.”

The two men paused to digest that. Barry’s lips pursed, but his demeanor remained firm. The thief’s fingers twitched, the only indication his body had not turned completely to ice.

“Then everyone will know who the Flash is under all that.” Len’s voice remained collectedly cool, betraying rushing currents below.

The speedster bared his teeth. “I don’t care. You can’t just push me away on this.”

“Because freezing you to the floor clearly had no effect.” He ate a fry. “You’re proving to be worse than a bad penny.” The bench creaked as he leaned back. “But here’s the thing, Barry, I don’t need you. I don’t need your little hero team. Get in my way, and I’ll kill you.”

“No you won’t.”

“We’ll see about that.” He stood, abandoning his food. “Thanks for dinner.”  
…

Later, after being called to a scene of head exploding proportions, the gruesome picture of what he was faced with laid itself out like train tracks.

“He put a bomb. In your neck.” Barry’s eyes flashed with lightening as he seethed. “I’m going to kill him.”

“You’ll have to wait until we can get it out, dude.” Cisco said, holding tight to Lisa’s hand.

“How long will that take?”

The scientist set his shoulders. “I’ll have Caitlin run another medical scan. From there we can see what to do next.”

“Keep me updated.” Barry clawed a hand over the back of his head. “I’ll go keep an eye Len.”  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m playing with the timeline a bit here. Let’s just say Lewis got out earlier here than in cannon. Since there’s no Joe to push the investigation on Wells, Eddie was still kidnapped (but they found him like from cannon) but the confrontation finale with Wells is delayed.


	17. Lisa, Len, and Barry

“Bad penny.” The thief drawled, standing up from his work bench. “Might be too kind of a descriptor for you.”

Barry casually stepped across the warehouse floor. “What can I say, I’ve got a lot of stick-to-it-tive-ness.”

The cold gun charged. “I keep telling you to leave this alone.”

“And I’m telling you now that maybe you’re not the only one who wants to save Lisa.”

Len lowered his weapon, face like ice.

“My team’s working to get the bomb out of her. You know Cisco wouldn’t let anything stop him from helping her.” The younger man took a step forward. “So, let me help you. Please. I can’t-“

His words were cut off by the approach of Snart the elder.

A goofy posture and loose grin spilt themselves over the speedster’s countenance. He stuck out a hand. “Lenny said you needed teck help?” He stuck out a hand. “What’s up? I’m Sam.”  
…

“You know, when you invited me to go on a heist with you, I didn’t expect us to be escorted the whole time.” Barry tried to joke, while Lewis was away making last minute checks to the plan.

“Isn’t life just full of disappointments.”

The speedster’s face turned grim. He laid a hand on Len’s arm. “Look, we’re going to get through this. All of us. Ok?”

The thief lingered under his touch for a moment, before brushing him off. “Keep your head in the game, Sam.”

Later, a trio of blue suited cleaners rolled through the pricey entryway of a bank, and into the vault hallway.

Barry’s heart should have been pounding. His gut should have been clenching in guilt over robbing the Rathaway diamonds, but his mind was too preoccupied with watching every subdued step his nemesis took. The way his face never turned from Lewis, despite his eyes never raising once. 

Had circumstances differed, he might have actually found himself enjoying this little jaunt with Cold. They would have joked the entire way up the stairs, trading barbs and jabs about how ‘ice it was this fine evening’ and how they would ‘be cleaning up in a flash.’

But there were no sideways glances, no good humor when the lasers froze and the safe cracked. Nothing but the com in Barry’s ear counting down the moments until Lisa was safe.

Then Lewis told his son to kill the Flash.

Blue locked to hazel.

Barry nodded his head imperceptibly, muscles locking to brace against the blast of cold.

Then Cisco’s voice shouted out through the com. “We got it! She’s ok!”

Cold’s shoulder slumped in relief, before swinging to the side and blasting at the smug figure standing there, before it could drop the satisfied smirk from its lips.

“You killed him.” Barry clenched his fists, staring

“He would have just kept coming back.” Len’s voice cracked, like thawing ice. “He would have just kept coming back to hurt us.” His breath hitched, as a pair of arms encircled his shoulders.

“I get it,” the speedster breathed. His hug tightened. 

The thief hung loosely in his grip, cold, still staring at the corps. “Lisa still thought he could be a father. She hoped so hard, had all her heart set on it. The winter after our Grandfather died, instead of Christmas, she got a bottle to the neck.” Len took shuddering breath. “He broke my sister’s heart. It was only fair that I break his.”

“It’s ok, she’s safe back at the lab. But, Len, we have to go now. Your file’s clean, but that doesn’t mean any new evidence won’t be held against you in a court of law. We need to get out of here before the cameras come back online and the CCPD shows up.”

Barry gently took the gun from between unresisting fingers. The older man still hadn’t looked away from the body. The speedster’s skin buzzed. “Len, I’m going to get you out of here, ok? Just hold tight for a minute. I’ll be back in a flash.”

The lack of response to the pun was worrying.

Time slowed with the speedster’s perception. Settling into the mind frame of a crime scene investigator, he first wrapped the body in one of the multiple plastic bags taken from the cleaning cart, before running it down to the docks. He could imagine the exact expression on his workmate’s faces when the body was found, and everyone had to break out their boots and waders to dredge the marsh. Luckily, they would find nothing incriminating.

Next, he ran back to the crime scene and sprayed down the hallway with a bottle of bleach and cleaner, lysing any cells left behind for identification

Only once he was satisfied that no admissible evidence could be gleaned from the scene, did he turn back to the still thief. Hesitating for half an iota, Barry folded Len over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry he had to learn while getting certified with the local Red Cross, pocketed the diamonds, and raced back to the nearest hideout of the Rogues that he knew of.

He tossed Len across the couch, and headed towards the kitchen. Time reoriented itself to normal human perception, just as the speedster walked back to the couch clutching two cups of water.

Holding out a silly reindeer mug he found in the cupboard, he waited till the thief straightened himself up and took in his surroundings.

A barely there smirk touched one corner of his mouth. “Better than a getaway car.”

“Don’t let Lisa hear that; she’ll take it as a insult against her driving.”

The mirth vanished. “Lisa-“

“She’s fine.” Barry cut in. “Caitlin did another medical check, and they’re keeping her company over night in case they missed anything.”

“I should-“ The thief made to stand, but Barry pressed the holiday cup into his hands and pushed him back onto the couch.

“Cisco can handle it. You’re not in any condition to be riding off into the sunset.” He ran a hand through his hair. “God, Len, have you even been sleeping since this whole mess started?”

The thief took a sip of water, and didn’t meet his eyes. The speedster huffed out a growl.

“Don’t move, I’m making you food, and then you’re going to sleep. And then, if you don’t look like you’re about to fall apart or die, we’ll go see Lisa.”

He returned half a second later with a bag of pilfered goods, since ‘God Len, your Rogues eat worse than a college frat!’. A moment later and a plate stacked high with turkey sandwiches was on the coffee table, along with a thermos of tea.

“I have yet to overcome the laws of thermodynamics, so eat this, and I’ll make you hot food in the morning. I got eggs and everything, so I’m thinking French toast.” The speedster said, straightening the T-shirt and sweats he changed into from his costume.

Len prodded at the bread and lettuce. “You make such a good housewife, Scarlet. You trying to tell me something?”

Barry flushed. “Shut up and scoot over.” 

Utilizing his sharp elbows, the younger man wriggled his way into dominion of the corner of the couch. Snatching up one of the sandwiches from the stack, he rooted for the remote in the cushions, and turned on the modest set attached to the wall.

“Password’s still the same.” Len said vaguely, plucking out a tomato from his meal, before taking a bite.

“Right.” Barry scrolled through the Netflix account. “Monty Python or Princess Bride?” He glanced sideways at his moderately catatonic companion. “Never mind. Princess Bride it is.”

“As you wish.” Came the near silent reply.

The speedster tried not to think too hard about that statement.

The screen spilled forth a fountain of quirky color, coupled with ROUSs and Shrieking Eels, as well as, of course, true love. Around the time that the Dread Pirate Roberts invaded the castle, Barry’s couch companion stirred. 

Len’s head rose, as if from a great depth of water, and he glanced around the room, checking each corner as if for monsters. His fingers brushed together, shaking free some still clinging crumbs. Blue eyes ticked sideways, followed smoothly by his face, until he was facing the speedster fully. 

Arms thrown over the back of the couch, Barry slumped sideways into his space, faint smile playing over his face, as he mouthed along with the words of the movie, completely engrossed.

A soft expression stole across the thief’s face, and he leaned closer. “If you wanted to chill on the couch with me, you could have just asked.”

The younger man jolted back from the warm breath tickling his ear. “Jesus Len! Do you want me to accidentally vibrate through the couch!”

“You vibrate when you get excited?”

“Sometimes.”

“Careful, you’re turning scarlet, Scarlet.”

Barry pressed his hands over his heated face. “Sometimes you make it really difficult to like you.” He paused, as if only now realizing what he just said, and wondering what kind of nuclear fallout would follow.

The thief drew back half a breath, just far enough to tilt his head and scrutinize the being at his side. Flyaway hair, doubly windswept from constantly running his fingers through it again and again during the heist. Palms worn red from healing over the repeated moon shaped cuts, caused whenever the kid had glanced anywhere near the former Snart patriarch. Legs finally still, after jittering with static all night, as if needing to be physically restrained from running all he cared about away from harm.

Something warm softened the corners of Len’s eyes to the deepest sea blue, soothing away for the first time in days the constant pressing strain of worry.

He leaned in, and brushed his lips over the young man’s cheek. 

Barry looked up, expression too open to face what he thought coming.

Len smiled. “I like you too Scarlet.”

His next kiss was much more intimate than the last.  
...

When Barry woke up the next day with a familiar body in an unfamiliar position in his bed, he flushed cherry red. 

Len merely prodded the speedster’s side until he wet back to sleep. Mornings weren’t meant to be before noon anyway.  
...

“So, you and Lenny.”

Barry cowered against the couch cushions. 

A single golden brow raised, and a pleased smirk split Lisa’s face.

“I’m glad that we had this talk,” she said, and patted his cheek, before waltzing away.  
…

Later, Len felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of his head, and a crystalizing engine charge.

“If you ever so much as think about hurting him.” Lisa’s hiss put a pit of vipers to shame. “I’ll be selling your gold plated corps on ebay.”

“I have no intention of it.” Came his smooth reply. “Are we done here?”

“For now.” Golden Glider pulled her gun away. “See that I don’t ever have a reason to continue this conversation.”  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dear god, this chapter and Ferris Air were like pulling teeth.
> 
> Originally I actually wanted Barry to off Lewis, but it never wrote itself out right. The characters do as they will, and all that jazz.
> 
> Also, woah, you ever notice how Len doesn’t meet anyone’s eye in Family of Rogues? That’s like, ouch, such a painfully present defense mechanism of a child trying to appear differential and unnoticed. He even tried to look at Lewis to see his reaction to Barry, and physically couldn’t. God, Wentworth Miller, you are a beautiful beautiful actor.
> 
> Also, yeah, I don’t write smut usually. Sorry for those looking forwards to that. I am however all for fluff and feels of many varieties, so prepare yourselves. 
> 
> But still (FIREWORKS EXPLODING!!!!) Yay! They’re finally together! (LOUD CHEERING!!!)


	18. The Rogues

...

(0:10:00 REC.)

A pale man with dark hair and thick tinted lenses over his eyes scowled down his nose at the clearly distasteful riffraff and rabble screaming and dancing in the dimly lit interior of the bar, just visible over his shoulder.

“Flash said they were just listening to that Professor fellow when it came to locking us up,” he was saying, clearly in the middle of some kind of tirade. “Which was why he didn’t immediately track us all down after out little jail break at Ferris Air.” The artist snorted. “As if he could have!”

“So you still want to kill him?”

“Obviously!” Bivolo snorted. “But our dear Captain makes sure we know how to separate our work from play, so in here we’re at a truce. I’m only here because they insisted.”

“So you don’t really know the groom, then?”

“Our relationship could not have even been considered on par with work relations.”

“Oh. Kay. Well, that mural you painted as a wedding gift is still pretty nice.”

Even through his sunglasses, the metahuman’s glare was potent.   
...

(0:45:00 REC.)

“I liked the cop. Ed? He had a pretty voice.” Shawna hummed, as she cleaned glasses behind the bar. “They always made me wear a blindfold everywhere, but he was always really nice about making sure I didn’t trip over anything. Convinced the scientists to give me a laptop so I could fill out applications too.”

“And you’re working here now?”

The woman glared at him, bristling in her scrubs. “Do I see you working towards a nurse practitioner’s license on your off hours, sacrificing a job where you make money for one where you actively lose it to education? No. So mind your own business!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I dean’t mean it like that, I just meant, well, wouldn’t you want to be working in a hospital to up your practical volunteer hours? Like, isn’t that something you need to have for a medical degree?”

She settled back, anger coiling like a kitten. “Ok, well, if anyone asks, I say that Saints and Sinners is a clinic. Lord knows which what goes on in the back room, it might as well be.”

Her eyes flicked up. “You better delete that. Cold doesn’t take kindly to evidence of his misdemeanors.”

A burst of laughter. “I think I can handle him.”  
...

(1:00:37 REC.)

“I thought they were lying about the whole military conspiracy thing, you know.” A blonde man with a finely groomed beard ran a hand over his neck. “Until Boomer showed up and told us bout that whole bomb in the back of his head thing. That’s just messed up. I may have slept through history, but even I know the government can’t just do that, it’s a, what do you call it-”

“Human right’s violation?”

Mardon scoffed, and a light breeze rustled his coat. “You sound like that cop with the stupid face. First day he’s there, he waltzes into the Pipeline, reads us our Miranda Rights, then sets up little heart to heart sessions like he things he’s some kind of shrink!”

“Detective Thawne did get his degree in trauma counseling before joining the police academy.”

“Guy didn’t know what he was talking about.” The criminal insisted, eyes suspiciously reflective. “Kept asking me about whether I got into the business because of my brother getting pegged by the Santini’s as a loan shark when he was in school.” 

“So, you don’t like him then? Eddie, I mean.”

“ ‘Course not, he’s a cop. Doesn’t mean I’ll turn down free booze though.”

“Sure. Too bad about the outdoor reception he wanted for the wedding- there was supposed to be an open bar. Forecast said it was supposed to rain all that week, so I hope there’s a backup plan.”

The Weather Wizard scoffed again, nose deep in a glass of whiskey. “Well, what do those idiots know about the weather? Trust me, it’ll be sunny that day.”  
…

(2:01:40 REC.)

“Don’t know ‘im,” Mick grunted, over a row of flickering flamed shot glasses. “Did a job together once. That’s it.”  
...

(2:10:04 REC.)

“Eddie? Yeah, he had me and Professor Stein talk about metas. Not just the science, but our experience sorting ourselves out and that whole thing with General Eiling.” Ronnie sipped his drink distractedly, eyeing the burn scarred pyro inch closer to his wife seated at the bar. 

He looked back over. “Sorry, can we pick this up later?”

“That’s fine-“

But the meta was already on his feet, eyes flashing flame.  
…

(2:50:50 REC.)

Two brunettes are making out passionately on a couch in the corner. The camera frame wobbles.

“Uh, I guess I’ll just ask Lisa and Cisco later…”  
…

(3:10:50 REC.)

“Why exactly am I here?” Oliver growled, face obscured by a deep green hood and scowl. “I don’t even know these guys.”

“Because you love me?” The grin oozed between the words. “Come on, it’s Eddie’s bachelor party! Just relax!”

“I might be able to, if the bar wasn’t full of your Rogue’s Gallery.”

“They’re not so bad. Besides, a lot of them helped when Iris got kidnaped that one time. And they like Eddie, in their own way.” He amended. “Besides, Felicity and Eddie really got along at that dinner she invited us to. She wouldn’t have forgiven you if you didn’t come with her.”

“Yes, there is that,” the vigilante sighed, taking another sip of whiskey. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re running around with that thing.” 

The frame wobbled in a shrug. “Eddie made me the best man, so I was in charge of planning the bachelor parties. One for cops and one for capes.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”  
...

“Having fun?” Hartley smirked over the rim of his green martini.

“You know, you look terribly like a Bond villain with that thing. All you’re missing is the cat.” Barry snarked, taking a seat beside the scientist at the bar.

“Cat’s aren’t really my thing. Quite the opposite in fact.”

“I’ll be sure to get you a gerbil ball for the day you wake up and discover you’ve become a crazy rat lady.” He motioned the bar tender to give him a cider.

“I’m insulted!” Hartley laid a hand on his chest dramatically. “I’m much more likely to become a mad scientist.”

“You mean you’re not?”

“Touche.”

They both took a swig of their sugary beverages.

“I see you’ve been chatting up everyone in the bar.” Hartley commented. “Trouble in paradise?”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Len and I are fine, thanks for asking. No, I was making a recording to roast the good Detective, only everyone here seems to love him. I was hoping Mick would at least have some kind of incendiary comment.” He laid a palm sized camera on the bar top dejectedly. 

“Can you blame them? I mean, just look at the guy!” Hartley said, undressing the blonde over and over again with his eyes. “If Detective Thawne expressed even half an iota of interest, I would be all over that.”

Barry wrapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Come on, he’s getting married.”

The musician snorted into the last drop of his alcohol. “A guy can dream.”

“Well dream on.”

Hartley stuck out his tongue, before ordering another drink. “I wanted to berate you again for dumping that box of diamonds on my doorstep. Do you know how hard it is to liquidate such recognizable gems?”

“I just thought you would appreciate getting back a piece of your inheritance, so, I’m going to pretend that was a thank you, and say you’re welcome.”

The scientist sighed, as if the weight of the world rested solely upon his intellectual superiority. “You will never understand the trials and tribulations placed upon me by you.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “What did you end up doing with the money?”

Hartley shrugged, sipping the last dregs of his poisonous green concoction. “Bought a new flute. Donated the rest to charity.”

“That was, like, at least two million dollars worth of stuff. That must have been one expensive flute.”

He rolled his eyes again. “I don’t comment on your life choices, and you don’t comment on mine. That’s the only reason you get away with wearing an S’nM wet dream in my presence.”

The speedster snorted. “I’m glad we’re friends, despite all reasons to the contrary.”

Hartley stuck out his tongue again, and ordered a new drink. “Mick appears to be quite taken with Dr. Snow,” he commented lightly, as a bright blue concoction was placed on a napkin in front of him.

“Yeah. Firestorm threatened him, but I honestly think that just made Mick like them more.”

The scientist’s attention got caught by a figure across the room. “Speaking of hopeless pursuits, I see a hot ass with my name on it. If you’ll excuse me?”

“Just don’t try to drive yourself home.” Barry said, as his friend stumbled from his stool, martini spilling over his hand.

“If all goes well,” Hartley said, smoothing back his hair with his free hand. “I won’t be!”

The speedster chuckled as his friend tottered off to flirt. The Piper’s empty seat was almost immediately filled with a breathless blonde.

“Barry!” Eddie cheered, cheeks too flushed for less than three shots to be uninvolved. 

“Eddie!” Barry crowed back with equal enthusiasm, though more humor. Being incapable of getting intoxicated had turned him into the unquestioned best drunken friend baby sitter. He found his badge of honor getting quite the workout that night.

“Barr~y! Barry Bear! I just wanted to tell you the good news!” Eddie said, eyes alight.

“Oh?”

“Joe finally started talking with Iris again! She got him to walk her down the aisle! And one of her cousin’s kids is going to be the flower girl! Isn’t that just awesome? Maybe he’ll stop giving me the stink eye at work too!”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Something wistfully fragile touched the edges of Barry’s smile. “But, that, that’s sounds lovely. I’m so happy for you two.”

Across the bar, a certain cold based thief frowned and looked over to where the speedster sat. Len’s attention, usually focused on his partner, caught the slip in demeanor and raced through a number of causes and cures, before settling on the most likely.

Barry cleared his throat. “And are your parents coming too?”

“Ah, no.” The blonde tried in vain to smile. “They passed away right before I requested my transfer to Central.”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry!”

Eddie waived off his concern. “It’s fine. They had me when they were really old. It wasn’t unexpected.”

“Still.” Barry laid a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “I’m sorry to have brought it up. I can talk to Iris’s maid of honor, Linda, and we can arrange having a picture of them set up in the front pews, so they’ll be there in spirit. If that’s ok with you,” the speedster added hastily.

The detective chuckled wetly. “Thats, that’s great Barry. Thanks.” He clasped the hand on his arm. 

“Family’s important.” Is all the brunette said, squeezing back.

Len’s brows knit in contemplation, and he took another sip of his drink, planning.  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Wha~ Lenny, what you up to?
> 
> Also, drunk Eddie is adorable.


	19. Len and Henry

...

“Why on earth did you do something so monumentally stupid!” Lisa shrieked at her brother.

Len held the receiver further away from his ear. “Nice to hear from you too.”

“No, you do NOT get to be nonchalant about this! Do you know what I have to deal with while you’re on your little vacation in the Heights? Paperwork.” Her tone could have masticated glass. “Because you had to make yourself the head of an empire on a whim, then go get caught robbing a bank! You didn’t even have your cold gun! You literally had a million dollars in your hand, and you just stood around for the cops to show! What were you thinking Lenny!”

“I have a plan.”

She scoffed. “You always have a plan. I just get the feeling I’m not going to like this one.”

“Maybe.”

His sister sighed, releasing the majority of her aggression. “Barry’s upset.”

Len’s hand tightened around the receiver.

“He’s not saying anything, but you know how he gets: all smiley and overcompensatingly cheerful.” She continued.

“Tell him I’ll see him soon.”

“I’m half way to telling him to dump your ass.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“He can do so much better than a cold bum in jail.”

Len smirked. “I’ll have you know that Barry and I like each other’s posteriors no matter what temperature.”

His sister gagged. “Oh, god, TMI!”

“But really,” his voice softened. “Tell him.”

Lisa sighed again. “I still don’t get why you let yourself get arrested in the first place.”

“It’s important.”

“I hope you think it’s more important than your relationship, because Barry is in stitches.”

A frown dimmed his previous mirth. “Nothing’s more important than that.” He said, and hung up.  
...

Henry Allen’s situation was one out of a crime novel for cold cases. He knew this, because his son sent him such reports and novels when he was still in college, every note and letter indicating how his son’s faith in in innocence remained strong.

However, the doctor did not have the same unshakable certainty he would one day be free. He never said anything to Barry though, content in being present in his son’s life, if only as an inspiration to be the best forensic scientist this side of the Pacific.

Still, Iron Heights was no cake walk. The doctor mostly survived using the age old and tried High School method of sitting quietly in the back of the room unnoticed with a book. His anonymity took a hit when he played snitch for the CCPD on one of their cases, however a friend on the outside made it clear the old man’s safety was not to be tampered with.

Speaking of.

“Hey there Doc.”

Henry looked up from his paperback. He considered the speaker for a moment. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I know, I know, you hardly recognize me. I tried to tell the barber to keep my hair the same, but this new look completely sets off my cheekbones.” Leonard smirked, taking a seat beside him on the bench.

A barely there smile touched the corners of the man’s face. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know.” The younger man waived his hand. “Seeing the sights, meeting interesting people, recruiting them. The usual. You?”

Henry hummed. “That girl training for her practitioner’s license, Shawna? She said she was one of your friends. She visits about once a week. Claimed to the guards she’s writing a paper on doctors who break the Hippa, but she only ever seems to ask me questions about how to treat field wounds when all you have is a needle and tooth floss.”

“Boo’s a good doctor; excellent bedside manner.”

“She complained that some Mark guy was giving her trouble while she was patching him up, so she dropped him in a river.”

Leonard covered his smirk with a hand. “Like I said, excellent. Her patients tend to be more…trying than what a conventional hospital would be capable of handling.”

“One day you’ll tell me what it is you get up to, and I’ll be incriminated and sentenced for another lifetime.”

“Oh I hope not.” The thief drew out the word casually. “Barry would never forgive me.”

Henry started. “You know-?”

“Turns out our family has been friends for quite some time without us knowing.” Leonard shrugged. “Your son and my sister have a long history, apparently.”

“Oh, so that’s the Lisa he’s always talking about!” A light chuckle rumbled through his chest. “You’re not here telling me to expect wedding bells, are you?”

The crime lord paused, letting several shallow breaths pass through his lungs. “Not between them, no.”

The doctor sobered. “Then is Lisa…?”

“No, she has her eyes set on an engineer.” 

Henry took in the way his companion worried his clasped hands together, the deceptively loose hold of his shoulders, and the telling way he refused to meet the other’s eye. A ponderous note of deduction chimed through the father’s mind, and he straightened his spine, inflating his normally hunched posture to its full rectangular girth.

“So,” he said, grizzled jaw set in a neutral line. “How long have you been seeing my son?”

Len clenched his hands tighter. “Long enough.” Blue eyes flickered everywhere but Henry’s face. “Sir.” He added, hastily.

The bubble of indignation bolstering the kind man’s posture popped, and he drew back from the ledge of threatening. Henry toyed with the paperback in his hands, flipping the pages one way then the other. Many questions vied for voice in his thoughts, before the most important one broke to the forefront.

“Do you make each other happy?”

“Yes!” The word was breathed with the same intensity an astronaut deprived of air prays.

The doctor nodded. “Well, that’s the most important thing.” He fixed Leonard with a clinically freezing eye. “Just don’t ever hurt him.” The threat hung in the air like fog at a crossroads.

The thief nodded seriously. 

A bird flew over head, wheeled around the yard, and curved back towards the river.

“So,” the younger man said at last. “When did you say that Shawna would be visiting you again?”  
…

All totaled, Len spent only about three weeks in prison. The first week was spent toying with the guards, who seemed convinced he would ice them on the spot, despite the fact that his cold gun was safely locked away in his headquarters. 

He also moonlighted through the new meta human wing, noting cell orientation and security feeds still being wired in. The information would be useful if push ever came to shove and he needed to break one of his Rogues out.

Ever since his callout to the Flash all those months ago, the city had been less disbelieving of the reality of super powered humans and their preference for crime.

The second week Len spend building up the courage to speak with his long ago first cellmate. That went much better than expected, truth be told. He didn’t even get a black eye or anything.

God, the entire Allen family was way too good for him.

Thursday morning, he got a present, thoroughly searched and opened by guards before ever reaching his hands. When Len opened the package, he raised a brow at the hundreds of neatly positioned gum packs.

“That’s a lot of Ice Breakers.” Henry chuckled at his side.

“What can I say,” the thief drawled, something softer than a smirk pricking the corners of his mouth. “Scarlet thinks he’s got a sense of humor.” He breath paused in habit, as if expecting a protest, which never came. His fingers tapped stitches on the sides of the box.

Saturday night of the third week, a late night visitor approached his bunk.

“I know I said that the Flash never told anyone how I got my ex out of here, so they haven’t done anything to stop me getting in again, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable popping in and out like this all the time.”

“Keep your cool, Shawna. We just need to pick up our guest of honor, and then we’re out of here.”

The nurse huffed, but obligingly grabbed her boss by the arm and bamphed them outside of the cell with a glance.

Len waited till the black smoke cleared, before setting off at a measured pace towards a certain cellblock. He had sixty three seconds before the guards walked by again, but by that time he planned to be long gone.

Stopping, he wrapped his knuckled against metal bars. Inside, the lone occupant stared at him with resigned bemusement. “Leonard.”

The thief smirked. “Mr. Allen.”

“I hope you didn’t stop by for old time’s sake. I don’t think I can handle another concussion.”

Cold shook his head. “No, this time you’re coming with me, Doc. Because the love of my life is notoriously hard to shop for, and I take stealing presents very seriously. Adds that personal touch, you know?”

Henry sighed, eyes raising to the dirty concrete ceiling as if to ask why his life overflowed with such sincere fools. His lips quirked in a not entirely suppressed smile. “Let me just grab my book first.”  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …  
> A/N: Another tooth pulling chapter, but I suppose I’ve already written the easy scenes. Now it’s just shop keeping sewing them all together. Sigh. The trials and tribulations of trying to write coherently.
> 
> Also, Len, sweet gesture, but, seriously, can’t you just get a box of chocolates like everyone else? Henry is so done with him and his romantic nonsense.


	20. Wells and Barry

...

When Barry got the news of Len’s imprisonment, he nearly vibrated through his office chair. Luckily, none of his coworkers saw this feat of impossibility, and the speedster managed to clamp his hands atop his jittering knees to prevent a repeat.

The rest of the day dragged by doubly slow, as his mind kept racing away between possible escape routes and reprimands he would pour upon his…Len when he next saw him. This was not helped by every officer in the department silently celebrating the capture of the notorious Captain Cold, nemesis of the Flash.

However, when Barry attempted to gain an audience at Iron Heights, he was stopped short.

“No visitors.” The guards barked, reading over the request form with disinterest.

“I work for the CCPD.” The young man pressed. “It’s for a case.”

“Then come back with a warrant to question him.” The guard growled.

Hands shaking, Barry returned to the Rogue’s latest hideout to curl up on the couch next to Lisa.

“I’m thinking about breaking him out.” He confided to her. “They’re not letting me talk to him, and-“

“Lenny asked for no visitors. They wouldn’t let me in either, but I managed to get that much.” Her golden eyes fluttered. “The guards were so helpful, once I asked nicely.”

“He…doesn’t want me to visit?” Barry’s hands clenched along the hem of his sleeve. 

“He’s not letting anyone visit.” The woman soothed. “He’s just being an idiot. Look, I’ll seduce one of the guards and go talk to him, and-“

The speedster shrugged off her comforting hand, shoulders curving inward distractedly. “No, it’s- he’s probably planning something, and doesn’t want m- us in the way.”

Lisa scowled, equal parts motherly fury and worry. “Are you sure you’re ok? What with Len in jail-”

“I’m FINE!” He snapped. Then, more collectedly, “I’m fine. Please, just leave it alone?”

Her lips pressed together, but she settled back into the faded leather upholstery. She clicked on the TV, allowing the conversation to ease away under the lull of British voices and mystery, though her eyes never strayed from her friend’s crumpled form.  
…

Barry was just shutting off the lights in Star Labs, when he saw a flicker of yellow out of the corner of his eye. The edge of wariness wore upon his tired frame.

Cisco and Eddie were out pitching his idea of a metahuman task force to Captain Sygn. Caitlin was just starting her new job, and hadn’t renegotiated her hours to allow for more than weekend excursions and emergency visits with Team Flash. Ronnie was out of town with Professor Stein, and Hartley was emphatically radio silent while he went on a date with some blonde circus performer.

The building should have been empty.

Removing his hand from the light switch, Barry stepped casually down the corridor, body straining to keep his pace casual.

Another flicker, and he found himself turning towards the Pipeline. Dread pooled in the speedster’s stomach as he turned the final corner.

“Should have guessed that you were hiding out here, after we found Eddie tied up in the basement.” Barry’s being, his emotions, fatigue, feeling, detached themselves from his consciousness. He seemed to be floating just behind his own eyes, a ghost to the proceedings.

The yellow suited figure grinned in a smile too manic to be kind. “Don’t bother calling any of your little ‘Team Flash’. I’ve made sure all of your friends are otherwise in disposed, so we can keep this little chat private.”

“Thought I had gotten all the bugs.” He said dully.

“You did.” Wells nodded. “But a bit of tweaking made sure your little EMP toy wouldn’t work, and I put up more. It’s pretty common to shield electronics like that where I’m from. I practically hit myself for not doing it before, but I suppose I underestimated you.”

“And where exactly are you from?”

Blue eyes crinkled in a horrifying display of indulgence. “The future.”

A heavy weight spun in the pit of Barry’s stomach. “So Wells is-?”

“My real name is Eobard Thawne.”

It spun faster. “I suppose that explains why you didn’t kill Eddie. We wondered.”

The man laughed. “He thought I was trying psychological torture, when I showed him that he would never end up with Miss West. As if I would need to use such menial tactics!”

Friction heated his insides, and the weight turned molten. His dead voice reflected some of that fire. “I suppose that explains why he was so concerned about me and Len. Kept leaving out these pamphlets for couple’s counseling, and saying how supportive he was of us.”

“Ah yes, you and the Captain. Another unfortunate oversight on my part.”

“Glad to disappoint.”

“Oh, you were never a disappointment, Flash.” Eobard’s face flickered with something too sinister to be called a smile. “We were enemies, you know. In the future. Never could defeat you, but then I learned your name. Barry Allen. I meant to erase you, kill you as a child. Unfortunately, future you followed me back, got you out of there. I thought killing your mother would finally rid me of the Flash, but that left me stranded in the past.” He shrugged. “So here we are. Our powers and fates still inexorably intertwined.”

Barry stood ominously still, hands clenched into fists, eyes bright in his grim face. “So,” he croaked. “You need me to, what, help you get back to the future?”

The man bobbed his head from side to side, consideringly. “The timeline I came from has unfortunately been…altered. It took me a while to realize that the future I was looking at through Gideon had already branched away into a different stream of the multiverse. Once I went into the past, this new timeline veered away and existed independently of the other.”

“What, do they not have ‘Back to the Future’ whenever you’re from?” The jibe tore itself from his throat before the speedster could call it back.

Eobard’s eyes flared red. “Hm. Funny. But, no. I’m here to offer you a deal Flash. One that will make us both happy.” He tucked his arms behind his back. “You convince your little friends down at Star Labs to help me open up a rift into the speed force. From there it would be a simple matter for me to hop dimensional vibrational frequencies into my now parallel time line.”

“And why would I help you do that?” Barry’s voice was hard, like brittle glass. The fire in his gut writhed like lava. “After everything you’ve done, why on earth do you think I would help you get what you want?”

“Oh, Barry, after I spent all the time mentoring you?” 

The younger man made an aborted lunge towards the other’s throat.

Eobard smirked. “No. I’m giving you an opportunity here. To save your mother.”

Color drained from his quarry’s face.

“The speed force covers not only inter dimensional space, but time as well.” The time traveler continued. “You experienced a fraction of that power yourself, when you ran fast enough to defeat the Weather Wizard by repeating the day over. But there is still so much more you can do! So much further you can go!”

He turned on the trembling man. “I’m giving you an opportunity to set everything to rights. You would get to grow up happy, you mother and father beside you. Content. So, Barry, what’s it going to be?” Wells- Eobard- Whoever, smiled smugly, arms crossed over his chest, in a posture that screamed self assuredness.

The speedster could see exactly what would happen.

Wells would work on his time bubble, maybe or maybe not with Cisco’s grudging help.

Flash would run and open the wormhole. He might even end up saving his mother in the sixty seconds afforded to him. He could hear his father laughing at Christmas, still content in his medical practice. Childhood family whole and safe.

Speeding up ten years, the Flash may or may not exist. He may or may not go toe to toe with the villain of the week, and trade banter with Captain Cold every Tuesday. He may or may not be Barry.

Then ten years past that, a man-sociopath-monster named Eobard would meet the Flash. With a twist of his mind and lips, he would dedicate every waking moment to killing the scarlet speedster. Enough to travel back in time to see him dead as a child, only to miss, and hit Nora Allen.

He would just keep coming back, again and again, that yellow blur which had haunted Barry’s nightmares. The cycle would never stop, never, unless-

The leaden ball in his stomach erupted into a thousand searing embers of lightning, which spilt from his eyes in arching claws.

In an instant, Wells was pried from room, and sped several hundred miles in a moment to the most desolate corner of the state the speedster could manage.

Before the imposter could do more than widen his eyes, a crippling blow to his back severed his spine, and he collapsed.

“I’m not playing into your games anymore, Wells.” Barry’s voice shook with hollow fury. 

The man scrambled back, dragging his useless legs behind him. “Barry, you don’t want to do this.” His calm voice betrayed none of his evident terror, as he tried to coax the hero like a frightened dog. “This isn’t you.”

“And how would you know that?” Barry snarled, stalking forwards. “Because you’ve watching me for years? Because you know me from the future?”

His foot lashed out, followed succinctly by a grinding crunching soggy crack.

“You don’t know anything about me!” He snarled to the oozing corpse.  
…

Barry trudged up the steps of his apartment. Half way up, he remembered that his keys were still on a desk somewhere in Star Labs. A thought drifted through his mind to go get them, but a more pressing need to curl up kept his feet climbing.

Light caressed his face as he neared his front door, highlighting the tired wrinkle of confusion marring his brows. He made a point to turn the little lamp beside the doorframe off when he left for work in the morning. Someone inside must have turned it on.

Scuffing his shoes on the mat, new along with his pants to replaced the set he had burned, Barry fumbled for the doorknob. It opened without him needing to phase the lock.

“Barry!”

A warm body swept the speedster against an achingly familiar chest. Barry’s arms instinctively clutched the broad back, inhaling the scent of leather and frozen ozone. His eyes squeezed shut. Perhaps he had passed out in the lab. This dream was familiar enough to have him questioning reality.

A kiss seared his temple, and Barry had to hold back a sob. “Len?”

The thief tried to pull back, but the speedster clung close. A hand ran through his hair. “Scarlet? What’s wrong?”

“I- I’m just-“ Barry couldn’t breathe. “You. You’re here. I- You’re really here?”

Another kiss. “Yeah, I’m here.” The hold across his shoulders turned gentle. 

“You’re not allowed to leave like that again.”

“I know.”

Barry stared straight into Len’s eyes. “I’m serious. If you ever left like that, I-“ His breath hitched. “I think I’ld break apart.”

The arms tensed. “I’m sorry.” Another kiss, and Barry tried his best to burrow into Len’s heart. Eventually, Len spoke again. “Could I be forgiven, if I told you it was to get you a present?”

“What?”

The thief drew back to allow the speedster to see the third occupant of the room, standing awkwardly to the side during the couple’s reunion.

Barry gasped. “Dad?”

“Heya slugger.” Henry Allen grinned tiredly.

“Dad!” Barry leapt into his father’s embrace. “But, how?”

The old man sighed exasperatedly. “Leonard over there decided we were overdue for a family reunion.”

Said thief shrugged, failing to hide the pleased upturn of his lips. “What can I say?”

If he had planned on speaking more, it was cut off as the speedster barreled into him. Henry politely averted his eyes, then as the display continued, discreetly mumbled something about waiting outside in the car with Shawna, before making his escape.

“I’ve been having the worst month imaginable.” Barry’s voice was muffled against Len’s chest.

Len, still slightly breathless, rubbed circles on his back. “But it’s improved?”

“Infinitely.”  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …  
> A/N: Ugggg, I hate Wells almost as much as I hate writing Iris. He’s such a creeper. 
> 
> Next chap: prepare for ALL THE FEELS. You’ve been warned, the fluff is about to hit the fan, then catch on fire. It will be painful for everyone involved.
> 
> (I can’t wait :3 , but I’m evil, so you might want to. ^w^)
> 
> Also, yeah, Barry did just off Eobard in cold blood. To be fair, I was building up to this point since the chapter with Ollie, when I had vague notions of this happening. Barry got pushed too far and was in a very stressful place to begin with. He snapped, and offed a truly despicable person.
> 
> Again, I appeal to S2, where canonically Barry is totally killing metas from Earth-2 without seeming to care all that much. This Barry is a bit more tarnished than that, so things are escalated a bit higher on the angst scale.
> 
> Ooo, we’re hitting the home stretch here guys! Two chapters left! 
> 
> Also, major angst warning for the future. Like, MAJOR. This is my obligatory warning, so you can’t say I didn’t.


	21. A Singular Event

...

Barry offered to let his father move in with him.

“The place is too big for just me, and, I mean Len comes over a lot, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind!”

The older Allen quirked his lips, and ruffled his son’s hair. “It’s all right. I’ve been speaking with Shawna about renting the small room in her house. She said she could use the help with some of her more trying patients. Of course, I want to vanish in the woods for a bit, but after.” He sighed. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw trees.”

Disappointed but understanding, Barry gave his father another hug, before sending him on his way with a car full of appropriated camping gear, and a box of pixie sticks. 

Shawna had patted his head as the vehicle rolled out of sight. “Don’t worry. I was the same way after I got out of the Pipeline. Mark spent a week on a mountaintop somewhere ‘talking with the wind’ or whatever. Course, I never could get the hang of hiking after-“ She waived her hand through the still dissipating black smoke left by her preferred mode of transportation. “But it’s the though that counts, yeah?”

The speedster nodded with a shrug, before returning home.  
…

Barry wasn’t exactly sure when Len got a drawer in his apartment, but he always dumped the collection of accumulated turtle necks and diamonds there whenever he cleaned.

More snacks got added to the fridge, as well as a six pack of beer the speedster didn’t even like the taste of, to think nothing of his inability to be affected by alcohol. The time the cookie jar ran low, Len casually mentioned adding more to his shopping list next time he went out.

Around the time a small painting Barry just knew had been appropriated from a museum just last month appeared on the wall above the bed, the speedster finally approached the older man.

“I know this is a weird question.” Barry fiddled with the cord of a toaster he didn’t recall buying, but had sat on his counter for at least a few weeks. “But exactly how long have we been living together?”

Len just laughed.

Later, digging through that very same drawer, which was noticeably less full with half of its contents having moved to the closet, Barry found a small velvet box.

He didn’t open it. Ok, maybe just a quick peak. Just long enough to ogle the perfect (perfect, beautiful, and utterly beautifully perfect) ruby imbedded in the rich gold band.

During their usual weekly date, Len took Barry to three high end buffets, before topping it off with a five star restaurant for dessert and wine. The rest of the Rogues were off knocking over a bank, content in knowing they would only have to handle the city’s more conventional law enforcement.

The speedster felt pleasantly full, tucked against his man’s side as they walked through the tree lined promenade by the waterfront. White lights glimmered, having been hung just as the smell of winter began to freeze the land.

A warm arm snaked around his side. “Chilly?”

Barry hummed. “Cold never bothered me anyway.”

“Oh contraire, I think I’ve made it a point of pride to bother you quite a lot.”

“Your flirting could use some work, it’s true.”

“Got you, didn’t I?”

Barry leaned over and pressed his lips to his partners. “Hmm~ I suppose.”

They stopped beneath a web of hanging snowflakes, which crisscrossed through the circular viewing area, connecting in the center above a statue of some long sunk ship.

Len turned to face the younger man, and smoothly slid a hand into his pocket. “Barry, I want to ask-”

The sky chose that moment to implode.

As one, the couple looked up at the swirling thundering mass of static and void baring down on he city. The night sky glowed sickly blue, like willowisps raining from the veil.

“Looks like you’re needed, Scarlet.”

Barry’s eyes turned pleading. The thief smiled softly, and brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“We’ll finish this as soon as you’re done, I promise.”  
…

“Cisco, where is my super suit?” Barry yelled, dashing through Star Labs.

“Coms are still busted in the red one after Mardon struck you with lightening. You’ll have to use the spare.”

“Right.” Barry flashed back an instant later, clad head to toe in black. He flexed his fingers. “Why does it have claws?”

“Well, I’ve been experimenting with a more streamline material, but the friction is so low that I guessed you might need more leverage to grip anything.”

“Right.” He tapped the lightening bold by his ear. “What can you tell me about the black hole out there?”

“It wasn’t opened from our side.” Cisco typed furiously. “The energy patterns are all wrong. See, it’s almost like watching the turbulence of a smaller current flowing into a larger one. We’re just a side branch on the two extreme ends of the singularity. It’s simultaneously sucking us in, and throwing out eddies of energy where the edges come into contact with our plane of existence!”

“That’s great, but how do we stop it?”

“We can’t. We’re not at either extreme end. Closing this rift could just end up ripping a new one open. If I had more time to run calculations, then maybe-”

“Done!” Barry snatched the laptop from the desk, speeding through windows to save and download the singularities’s data to a small flash drive, which he stuck in the black cowl of his suit. 

He grabbed the scientist by the shoulder. Green met frightened brown. “I’ll go back as far as I can. Hopefully that will give us enough time to fix everything!”

“Barry, wait!”

But the speedster had already vanished.  
...

The city streets, or what remained of them, were full of debris. Everyone capable of screaming had already sought shelter in the basements of the nearby buildings. Those who couldn’t were banging fruitlessly at their overturned car doors, trying to not get sucked into the sky, as the storm cloud loomed ever lower.

A man in a green coat stood atop an office roof, hands outstretched to the sky as he redirected the rain of lightening to the conveniently located metal rods at his back, instead of the ground.

An artist’s eyes glowed blue as he walked by another mob, which calmed and headed in an orderly manner towards shelter. A grim faced woman held tightly to a door handle, as two equally grim men ferried those trapped in their cars through into the bank’s lobby.

“Strange how the day’s plans can get really fucked up.” Mick commented, a woman in jeans over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and a little girl clutching his hand.

Shawna bamphed into being beside the pyro, clutching the jacket of a struggling man with a clearly broken leg. “You said it.”

Lisa didn’t listen, eyes scanning the streets for her brother’s blue clad form. Cold’s motorcycle lay abandoned in the lobby, where he had stayed just long enough to make sure his crew was safe, before ordering those most capable to help people out of the streets to safety.

Above, the winds escaped the Wizard’s grasp, as the lightening writhed in his hold. The black hole thundered, and the creep of objects to its epicenter increased to a fevered flow.

A sparking blur danced through the wreckage, and Glider’s heart calmed, until she heard the scream. Then she was running, dodging around cars, until she saw the tattered core of her family curled together on the ground.

“Len!” The Flash cried again, as unnatural lightening lurched from the sky, reducing an SUV to a puddle of slag.

“Barry?” Lisa crept forwards, holding tight to the side of the remaining vehicles, which had piled up in a metallic mass, barely managing to cut down the worst of the wind.

“No, nonononono.” Barry rocked back and forth, holding the still body close to his chest. Blood leaked through the black material, unnoticed.

“Barry!” She tried again.

The speedster uncurled, and Lisa forgot how to breathe.

Her brother’s face was a mess, where something metallic and mean had slammed into his brow, causing the bone to jut in a manner Lisa knew certainly was not healthy. His chest wasn’t moving.

“Lisa!” Barry cried, anguish clear through his thick mask. “Lisa! He’s-“

The Golden Glider fell to her knees. “No.“ She choked. “No, we’re not done! You do not get to die here, you hear me Lenny!” She screamed at the corps.

“I can fix this, I can fix this-“ he chanted, staring at his bloody hands.

“Barry!” Her golden eyes flared with the order, forcing her younger brother to look up. “You go. You do whatever it takes, ok? Timeline or no, this is not allowed to happen! Do you understand me?”

His head was a blur he nodded so fast. His frame shook as Lisa pulled her brother’s body from his lap to hers, painted fingers gentle as they closed his eyelids.

She looked at him, gaze fierce and red. “What are you waiting for? Run Barry!”

He ran. 

Tears clouded his vision, sparking blue where they streamed away into lightening in his wake.

But-

Instead of the familiar blur of time underfoot, paralleling paths clambered atop each other for the speedster’s prevue. Barry tried to stop, but his feet couldn’t do more than stumble from plane to plane, against his will.

He flung himself sideways, wrenching his feet from the speeding flow. His body screamed in protest, every atom tearing, lurching, breaking, twisting- 

Death would have been a welcome companion.

Barry tumbled, vision blackening, as the abyss swallowed him whole.

Above Central City, the singularity thundered ominously.  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I gotta post this before more new episodes come out and debunk my head cannon...Also, I'm starting school, and will have no time for anything. Curse You Graduate School!  
> ...  
> A/N: No Joe, no investigation, delayed singularity. And this isn’t even this universe’s Barry’s fault. The singularity spanned many worlds (at least 52 of them) and rumpled the fabric of time and space rather thoroughly. Trying to move through time while time is having a hissy fit…well, strange things start happening.
> 
> Also, I’m not sorry. Lynch me at your leisure. But the story goes where it wills, I know not where. Well, I mean, I kind of do, author prerogative and all that- but well...
> 
> This is in fact the second Frozen reference I’ve made in this fic. The first one came in Chapter 2.
> 
> And yes, Len was trying to propose. 
> 
> ,,,,,OnO,,,,,
> 
> Seriously, I think I’m a plot masochist. Or possibly sadist. I haven’t decided. Maybe both.


	22. Zoom

...

Barry was not positive, but he was sure there must have been something before the seemingly endless corridor of rushing light and thunder. However, his feet were inescapably drawn to run, and the speedster was vaguely certain that such infinite motion was impossible, so clearly if it was happening now, he must… the thought slid away before it could finish coherency.

A figure flickered at his side, a yellow shadow to his black.

Barry moved his eyes to try and make it out more distinctly. It looked human shaped, young. The kid, couldn’t be older than twenty, had freckles and bright red hair, the vibrancy of which was only outshone by his green eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Barry called, in a voice that didn’t produce any sound.

It seemed to take an age for the stranger’s head to turn and allow the calm gaze to fall upon him. “Well.” His voice sounded as if it called through the water of a well. “I’m dead... what’s your excuse?”

Dead? But-

Faded blue eyes stared up into the cascading sky, lifeless.

The speedster froze as much as he was able, as a lance of pain shredded his heart anew.

No.

He couldn’t be dead. He had to save Len- save Lisa- save Central- save LEN!

“How do I get out of here?” He called at the kid, but the yellow shadow was already gone.

Then-

The tunnel swerved and bucked, pivoting around atoms of unseen space. Dimensions rippled like a heat haze, just one step out of his reach. The speedster screamed, legs pumping harder than he ever thought possible, until with a wrenching leap, he flew through the waiver in the air. 

Blue lightening crackled in arching spirals, creating a horizontal vortex of light. Images flashed by the corner of his eye- Cisco on skates with a visor; Lisa standing with the Olympic gold, crowds cheering her name; Len shivering with icicles sprouting from his shoulder. 

The speedster lingered over that last image. Electricity arched around his feet, and he stumbled head over heels through the Speed Force.

His first experience with this new place was that, at the very least, gravity still functioned the same. Barry wondered, vaguely, how this portal seemed to dump him several hundred feet in the air instead of, well, anywhere else, but put the matter from his mind in favor of more pressing concerns.

Gathering lightening around himself, Barry whirled his arms like a windmill, trying to recall what little he knew about helicopters.

Luckily, the speedster survived his crash. The sky scraper, on the other hand...

Barry limped from the scene of the crime, mind whirling, uncaring of the crater at his back, nor the sirens growing louder through the streets. Blood pooled stickily on the outside of his uniform, though the black color disguised how bad the stain actually was. None of it was his anyway. No, it all belonged to-

The strange golden glow of the city and the turn of the century feel remained unheeded as the zombie like figure hobbled from the site of the destruction, one name chanting over and over in his mind.  
...

Obviously he wasn’t in his world anymore. He didn’t need to check the newspaper for that, especially after he saw a man with a cape /fly/ through the city without comment, beyond a few people looking up and waving.

Barry spent his time huddled on the rooftop of some skyscraper, just another dark shadow among gargoyles. He didn’t move. He didn’t sleep. 

He wasn’t hungry any more, which Barry knew should have disconcerted him on a fundamental level. However, his bones were kit together with so much lightning, he could barely breathe for want of movement. His being ached hollowly, calling to the springs of Speed Force welling up through the eddies of this universe.

It had been like this ever since his first attempt to run home. He thought he could do it, had in fact done it once before- how else had he ended up in this strange place?

But every time he set his feet along the blazing path of lightning, it twisted under his feet. The wavelengths which tasted of home seemed fragmented, shattered like a pane of glass. If he was just fast enough, if he had more lightning in his veins, he knew, hoped, KNEW that he could catch all the tiny shards and stitch a path home for himself. 

But.

He wasn’t fast enough.

The speedster’s head snapped up. He could taste it, the connection, running through the city with a lightening bold on its chest. His mouth felt parched, craving the cool lightening to sooth his fevered jitters.

He might not be fast enough, but maybe, pleasegodmaybe, if he could add to his speed, could tap another of the wells of lightning to fill his own, perhaps, perhaps it would be enough.

Gathering up the fading pieces of his psyche, Barry dashed from his perch to pursue the flash winding through the streets.  
…

The streak of lightning was a man, tall and grim, with a winged helmet on his head and a lightning bold splashed across his red clad chest. He glowered. “You! How dare you come into my city and do this! Do you know how many people you killed when you destroyed that building? Tell me who you are, villain!”

The plea died on Barry’s lips. No. This Flash wouldn’t help him.

Why would he? Barry wasn’t even apart of his universe. He was an aberration. Why would this Flash care?

And on that note, why should Barry care about him? Why should he care about anyone in this universe either? They weren’t his. They weren’t anything to him.

This wasn’t his city. The people here might have even been the ones to create the singularity that-

Blue lightening sparked in his eyes, and he clenched his fists till half moons of pain dug into his palm.

No.

He would run- he would keep running, no matter what the cost, until he got home.

Then- a still form, blood leaking from a gash on its head and between burnt lips, so still when once they had been so kissable-

Barry squeezed his eyes shut.

Then he would keep running, keep gaining speed, until he could set everything back to rights.

When his eyes opened, a speed demon glared hungrily back out.

“I’m a nightmare,” he said, and attacked.  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …  
> A/N: Hey, that was young justice wally for anyone who wondered. I have no regrets for how this fic turned out. I’m waiting to see how cannon pans out before I consider contemplating a followup fic to this.
> 
> So…yeah, this somehow turned into a Zoom origin story. Hm. Ok, plot, fine, be that way. I just wanted to write a fluff piece, but no, you had to go and do that. (Angry sigh). I originally had Barry say, “I am Zoom,” but it didn’t feel right. He never really named the villains of the week, and I feel like Zoom would be something Jay or some Earth2 reporter would come up with. Does Zoom ever describe himself in cannon? I don’t remember…
> 
> So my next big project will most likely be Kinky Red Boots, as I’ve got a lot of parent Len feels to get out, and a pretty ok outline. Also the companion fic to that Piper and Trickster’s Most Excellent Adventure, because my supernatural feels re-emerged. 
> 
> ...

**Author's Note:**

> ...  
> ...
> 
> Relative ages:
> 
> Barry: 11  
> Lisa: 16  
> Len: 21
> 
> ...  
> Hey! I just made a thing to put my non-fanfickey writings on! And my fanfickey stuff too! thereibi. wordpress. com
> 
> ...
> 
> Also, reviews feed the Muse, so feel free to comment!


End file.
